


Coiling

by wolfiefics



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Green Arrow (Comics), Justice League of America (Comics), Outsiders (Comics), Titans (Comics)
Genre: Elseworlds, Gen, I never liked his character, Jason Todd is a evil asshole, Lian dies, Team Arrow as a family, Titans go down, alternative universe, and this elseworlds shows that, but is redeemed in death, but not for long, multi-chapter, roy dies, the Titans as a family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 17:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17771012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: Following the death of his daughter, Roy Harper turns to the dark side.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a couple years before DC killed Lian Harper themselves and turned Roy evil. Personally, I think I did it better. Lian's death made absolutely no sense and was a fridge operation for shock value only. This is an Elseworlds. Roy was a member of the Outsiders but is no longer a member in this story, thus the mention of the Outsiders characters in the story. I never came up with a reason why he quit, just that he did. Maybe he didn't need the money anymore?
> 
> This is a dark fic. Do not expect a happy, uplifting ending. I wrote this because I was tired of hearing people say Roy was a useless character, an Oliver Queen wannabe with no redeeming or useful characteristics. I wanted to show him as capable but still the tragic, HUMAN character he has always been in the DC Universe.
> 
> Kudos to my roommate, ShadowWing, who helped me plot out the story and map out the final fight scenes between the Titans and Roy.

_Coiling coiling coiling coiling_  
Action potential should never be ignored  
Coiling coiling coiling coiling  
The villain falls from power the balance is restored.  
From the song "Coiling" by Beth Patterson

It somehow seemed appropriate that it was raining. Funerals like this did not deserve sunshine, blue skies and comforting thoughts that the deceased lived a good, full life. The crowd surrounding the mesa in Arizona was mind boggling and would have stunned the deceased when he'd been rational, sane and alive. The costumed adventuring community turned out en force, interspersed with agents from many foreign governments, everyday folk, and reporters. The ceremony was brief; no one really wanted to linger on it. The dispersion of the mourners was just as quick, no one wanting to dwell on their thoughts in so public a forum. Not since the deluded murders by Jean Loring had the superhero community felt so shaken, so vulnerable. It was never easy when one of their own turned against them. All regretted it.

A young man in a black and blue jumpsuit caught up to another young man in black leather and a red helmet tucked under his left arm. The two walked away without a fuss until they crested a hill. Nightwing slammed the Red Hood to the ground without warning, drew his fist back, and landed a solid punch that left the Red Hood's head ringing.

"What the hell, man!" protested Red Hood as Nightwing shook him hard enough that Red Hood's head bounced off of the packed earth.

"No more mind fucks, Jason, no more games, no more shit from you ever again or I swear to God, what you turned _him_ into will be nothing to what _I'll_ turn into just to take you down." The last three words were clipped and short. "And if I fail, I've got three backups willing to tag team til you drop. You get me, you twisted sonofabitch?" Nightwing shook the Red Hood again for good measure, head once more bouncing on the ground.

"I get it, I get it!" Red Hood found himself shoved away and unceremoniously sprawled with little dignity. Nightwing was walking away without even glancing back. Jason Todd, the Red Hood, looked up and swallowed. Nightwing stalked through a crowd of onlookers, shouldering his way through without a glance at anyone.

"And if we fail," the red clad body of Wally West, the Flash, stated in an equally harsh tone, "I know another group that'll make you wish to hell you'd stayed in your own goddamned grave." He jerked a thumb behind where he, Donna Troy, and Garth of Atlantis to the myriad of caped, cowled and masked people behind him. The group ranged from Outsiders to Justice League to former Titans group members. There were even a few villains in the mix, Cheshire among them, standing amongst their former foes united in this one single cause.

"I get it! Goddamn it, I get it!" Red Hood raised his hands up placatingly in surrender.

"You'd better," growled the Green Arrow from his location directly behind Donna Troy. Beside him stood what the superhero community affectionately termed "Team Arrow": Connor Hawke, Dinah Lance, and the new Speedy, Mia Dearden. In Lance's arms was the exhausted, tiny form of the little girl who started it all: Lian Harper.

Red Hood clambered rather ungracefully to his feet, steadied himself and took in a deep breath. In a move that was gutsy, he walked over to Lian and brushed a finger down her butterfly soft cheek. She stared at him with an unrelentingly accusing stare. "I am sorry," he whispered sincerely. Jason then turned to a dark cloaked figure a few people away and nodded. "I'm ready. You were right." Batman said nothing but turned and followed Jason as he too walked away.

As the horizon cleared of super-powered people Team Arrow and the original Titans stood staring at the magnificent sunset. Lian Harper, exhausted, had long fallen asleep in Dinah's arms. They contemplated the past few months in silence and then Oliver Queen summed up the events in one succinct phrase.

"The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it."

"Oh Ollie, you had to quote Thoreau," whispered Dinah, tears falling silently as the sun disappeared over the horizon.


	2. Chapter One

Several months earlier

Roy Harper ran out the door so fast he dropped his cell phone. Oliver Queen picked it up and heard the feminine voice on the other side say, "Hello? Mr. Harper? Mr. Harper, she's en route to Memorial Hospital, but sir, I'm sorry..." Ollie didn't wait to hear anymore. He snapped the phone shut, effectively cutting off the call.

"Roy!" Ollie hurried out, following his eldest 'son' to the gleaming candy-apple red pickup in his drive way. He barrelled past his other two 'children', Connor Hawke and Mia Dearden, on the way. "Connor, you and Mia stay here. We'll call later." Ollie didn't wait for a response, just jumped into the passenger side before Roy squealed out of the driveway. "I take it something's happened to the munchkin?"

Roy's tone was clipped. "Playground accident."

"Memorial Hospital," Ollie said. "You dropped the phone and took off before the lady could tell you where they were-" He grunted as Roy pulled a sharp U-turn in the middle of the quiet suburban street where the Harpers resided. "You need to calm down. Charging there like a jet engine is only going to get us there in an ambulance as well."

"Shut up, Ollie," growled Roy.

Ollie lunged for the steering wheel and slammed his foot awkwardly onto the brake, smashing Roy's foot and knee in the process. Ollie slammed the truck gear into park and grabbed his son by the shoulders. "Calm. Down. Right. Now."

Roy's face was frighteningly stony. Since her kidnapping over a year ago, Roy's over-protectiveness of his daughter reached new heights. Dinah complained that it was starting to become pathological. Ollie remembered defending Roy, stating that considering how often the kid was a target for those wanting to get at Roy or Roy's current teammates, the man had a right to more than a bit of overprotective paranoia. Now, Ollie was beginning to wonder if Dinah wasn't a little bit on the mark.

"You're going to get us killed. Let me drive." Ollie's voice turned soothing, coaxing Roy into agreement with a sharp nod of his head. They quickly switched places and Ollie drove hurriedly, but not dangerously, to the hospital. He hadn't even gotten the truck fully parked before Roy was out and running for the emergency entrance. Ollie quickly followed but Roy was already raising cain when he got inside the building.

"Mr. Harper, sir, you need to calm down!" A nurse and a security guard were already wrestling with Roy as Ollie entered.

"You're lying!" he was shouting, ripping from their grasp and breaking into a run down the corridor toward the hospital interior.

Ollie tackled him, both of them landing in a sprawl in front of a folded up wheel chair, knocking one of the generic framed art prints off the wall in the process. Roy fought him, landing every punch he could as he fought to get free. "They're lying. She's not...she's not, it's a lie!" His scream rent the air and Ollie swore his eardrums popped. The scream was primal, full of rage, disbelief and terror.

"What are they lying about, Roy?" Ollie demanded, still struggling to maintain his grip on his increasingly stronger companion. Rage and fear were charging Roy with inhuman strength, the adrenaline rushing through the younger man's system with the force of each denial. "Damn it, stop this! What are they-"

"They said Lian's dead!" Roy shouted, throwing a shocked Ollie off, rolling to his feet in a smooth motion and charging down the hall again.

Ollie couldn't immediately move to follow. He was stunned and turned to the nurse for confirmation. Her expression was all he needed to see. Ollie tossed her the cell phone and said, "Dial the number that says 'Home' and tell whoever answers what's happened and to meet me here. I'll see to Roy." Ollie pointed at the security guard. "You follow my orders. He's not an ordinary grieving father." The two men took off after Roy, who they could hear shouting Lian's name as he went from corridor to corridor.

By the time Connor and Mia arrived, Roy was subdued and heavily sedated. Ollie and three security guards looked more than worse for wear. Ollie was currently getting stitched where Roy slammed an IV drip stand into his face. He also sported several bruises on his chest and abdomen that were going to be spectacular come morning. Two of the guards were still standing, guarding the door warily, looking as if they'd run headfirst several times into a wall. The third guard was sitting next to Ollie, leg propped up and swelling at a nice rate of speed even with the multitude of ice packs prevalent. He refused to leave, being a father who'd lost a child himself.

"The lady on the phone said Lian was dead!" exclaimed Mia without a word of greeting as she hurried to Ollie's side. Connor merely stood in the doorway, watching Roy's restless, enforced slumber.

"Freak accident on the field trip."

"Freak accident?" Connor finally entered the room, walking over to Roy's beside and gently touching his older brother's upper arm. He'd seen Roy following the shooting. Roy pale and injured was not a new sight to Connor. Roy wasn't his brother by blood, but in every other way they were brothers and Roy's pain radiated to the more sensitive Connor like a lighthouse beacon to a ship. This pain was different; this pain was an agonizing wound in Roy's heart and in his soul, not on his body.

"Yeah. Everything was fine, they went to the playground for lunch after their field trip to the zoo. The kids were allowed to play until time to leave. Lian was on the swings. Apparently she got high and the chain broke. She ... fell." Ollie's voice broke. Mia made a noise between a whimper and a gasp. Connor felt his whole body shiver at the image that came unbidden into his mind.

Mia started to cry, resting her head on Ollie's knee, forcing the nurse stitching Ollie's face to pause for a moment as the force of her sobs shook Ollie's body. The room remained silent except for Mia's soft sobs and Roy's occasional groans.

"Someone should call Dinah," Connor said quietly. "And Dick Grayson. They can get in contact with everyone else." Ollie nodded, his face drawn and hollow as the nurse began to stitch again. "Did Roy do that?"

"Yeah. To say he went a little crazy would be like saying Pol Pot was a little murderous." Ollie winced as the nurse tied off the thread and dabbed some more antiseptic on the wound. "Thanks," he murmured.

"It is no problem, Mr. Queen. If we can do anything more, please let us know." The nurse gave a sympathetic nod to the group at large before taking her leave.

Ollie stood up and walked over to look down on Roy. His fits and starts were lessening but no less difficult to witness. "He's going to fall apart," the older man whispered.

"She was his world," Connor agreed. "But we'll be there for him." Ollie said nothing, just took his cell phone from his pocket and began making calls.

* * *

Dick's cellphone rang. Bruce Wayne knew it was Dick's cell phone because his was the only one Bruce ever heard play circus theme music. You could take the boy from the circus but not the circus from the boy's cellphone. He picked it up, as Dick was currently in the plane's restroom, and looked at the number on the caller id. He was startled to see Oliver Queen's number.

"This is Bruce," Bruce answered. "What's up, Ollie?"

"Bruce, is Dick there?"

"He's indisposed. We're en route to London via jet." There was a pregnant pause and Bruce had the distinct impression that Ollie was trying to pull himself together. "Has something happened?"

"Yeah, yeah, something's happened." Ollie's voice broke and there was thumping sounds like the phone was changing hands.

Connor's calm tones spoke next. "It's Connor, Mr. Wayne. There was an accident involving Lian. We've got Roy heavily sedated and he's not doing well."

"What about Lian?" Bruce demanded uneasily, making eye contact with Dick as the younger man came sauntering down the aisle toward him. At Lian's name, Dick immediately stiffened and sped up his pace. Bruce was thankful they were traveling by private jet because he had a feeling that they were turning around.

Connor sighed. He sounded distressed. Bruce knew enough about Connor Hawke to know the young man had strict control of himself. This was not good.

"Lian's dead."

Dick grabbed the phone as it slid out of a stupified Bruce's hand. Bruce grabbed it back before Dick could raise it to his ear. "Are you in New York?" Connor affirmed. "What hospital?" Connor replied with the direction. "We'll be there. Tell everyone we'll be there as fast as possible." The call was quickly ended and Bruce faced his own eldest, unsure how to break the news to Dick.

"Lian's dead, isn't she?" Dick's voice was flat. His blue eyes were piercing.

"Yes. They have Roy sedated at the same hospital as her body."

"You _are_ turning this plane around, right?" Dick's voice was stone cold and Bruce knew that Dick wasn't really asking.

"Of course." Bruce hit the intercom to the pilots and relayed the change in destination as well as the information that a close friend had a death in the family and they needed to be there. The pilots quickly altered course and soon the Wayne jet was en route to the Big Apple.

* * *

Themyscira's blue skies beckoned Donna Troy and she took advantaged of it. Soaring against the wind, she relished the feel of her hair whipping from her face and the power of the sun on her skin. A flashing light below caught her attention and she headed for earth and her Amazonian sister standing upon it.

As she got closer, Donna noticed that Diana's face was tense with grief and worry. A uneasy sensation in her stomach caused Donna to make a less than graceful landing. "What is it?" she demanded before Diana could get her mouth open to speak.

"Lian Harper was killed in an accident earlier today. Bruce just contacted me via JLA channels." Donna was off like a shot and it took Diana a bit to catch up. "Dick wants you to tell Garth." Donna picked up speed and angled down to vanish into the blue of the the water the Greeks once called The Wine Dark Sea. Diana hovered for a few minutes and then, with a sigh, returned to her home, heart heavy. She would pray to Charon, and ask for Persephone's intercession, to be gentle with Lian's precocious, and precious, soul on it's journey to the Underworld.

* * *

Atlantis wasn't in the best of shape, but it was still there, which was more than many places could claim. Donna almost ran out of air before she got into the oxygen tubes used for land-based visitors. As she gulped in the refreshing clean air, tears stabbed her eyes. She remembered little of her own son, Robert, due the machinations on her mind in the past, but memories of Lian were crisp and clear. The bright laughing brown eyes, the heartbreaking smile, the mischievous giggle when she'd planned what she thought was the perfect trick on her daddy, and her flowery smell from the bubble bath of which she was so fond.

"May we help you?" asked one of the guards politely as she stepped into a main visitors room.

"I need to speak with Prince Garth, please. Tell him it's urgent." Donna voice broke, unsure how much to reveal to strangers. Everything in this world seemed new to her again.

"And you are?" asked another guard, equally polite but a bit more wary at her request.

"Donna Troy."

The two immediately came to attention. "Yes, ma'am, we'll contact him right away. Would you like a chamber to refresh yourself?" Their solicitude was her undoing. Memories, emotions, and exhaustion caused Donna to collapse, weeping, on the rug emblazoned with the emblem of Atlantis. One of the guards rushed to the communication link while the other attempted to comfort her.

Twenty minutes later, Donna, Garth, and Dolphin were headed for the surface and New York City, young Cerdian left behind with Arthur. No one felt it was appropriate to remind Roy of his friend's own living son while his daughter was gone forever.

* * *

"Wally!" shouted Linda Park-West. "It's Dick!" She didn't really need to finish the sentence as Wally was already talking to Dick on the receiver she had been holding. Rolling her eyes, she missed her husband's face blanche but did catch the "We'll be there faster than you can spit".

"We'll be where faster than Dick can spit?" asked Linda archly, taking the jacket her husband handed her from his trip to her closet in the second it took her to blink.

"New York City. Roy's in the hospital."

"Oh honey, I'm sorry." She laid a comforting hand on his cheek. "Is he badly hurt?"

"You could say that," Wally said tensely and Linda noticed the grief in his eyes. "His daughter is dead." Linda didn't have time to gasp before he swept her into his arms for a quick trip to New York.


	3. Chapter Two

It was, of course, newsworthy in the extreme. A known superhero's daughter killed in a freak playground accident was more irony than the news media could stand to let pass by. Clark Kent and Lois Lane begged their editor to please let them cover the story tastefully and thus shine some sympathetic light on the sensationalist coverage. To their relief, their request was granted.

Clark knew that Oliver Queen would not take the entire situation with the media well, but also knew that Ollie would understand the need for someone to be humane about the situation, at least for Roy's sake. To his surprise, when he tentatively brought it up, Ollie and the rest of Roy's surrogate family not only adamantly agreed that it be done but were rather forceful about it as well. Ollie confessed they were thankful for Clark and Lois' help.

The tasteful bottom of the front page article of the Daily Planet the morning following Lian's death merely gave the facts, asked for public and media respect of the family of this tragedy, quoted statistics of playground accidents and low number of fatalities, a brief biography of Roy and Lian, and a request that any well wishers please donate to a charity foundation in Lian's name.

No other media coverage occurred after the first few days. The family's, indeed the hero community's wishes, in regards to the matter were respected. A follow up article on the funeral details followed. Ollie and Dinah made all the plans. Roy was in heavy denial and in no shape to make any decisions.

It was a sign of Roy's impact on the world at large that Lian's funeral was so well-attended. No one bothered Lian's mother, Jade Nguyen, alias Cheshire, mainly because no one felt they had the right to harass a grieving mother, let alone one as deadly as Cheshire. Classmates, teachers, former babysitters, heroes, ordinary people, and the occasional reporter and super villain could be seen at the simple graveside service. The tiny mission church that had been standing since the mid-1600s in Arizona had never seen such a congregation. Not many churches had.

Roy was a wreck. He stood between Ollie and Dick, being supported from the back by Connor. Dinah sagged against Ollie's other side, weeping softly. Mia, in a bid at keeping the peace, stood next to the stone-faced Jade on the other side of Lian's tiny coffin. A huge green tent erected via Green Lantern ring to shield everyone from the harsh Arizona sun shadowed Mia's grieving face and made Jade's forbidding.

Jade attempted to speak with Roy earlier that morning. It was not a pleasant confrontation. Those thus far assembled kept their distance until Roy launched himself at Lian's mother, screaming that it wasn't true, that Jade was lying like the rest of them. Jade was so stunned by Roy's reaction she didn't have time or inclination to defend herself from the onslaught before Ollie and Bruce pulled Roy away. She avoided him after that. No one could say they blamed her.

The service finished with murmurs of regret and sympathy to the Arrow family. Roy reacted to very little, only shaking his head occasionally when someone's voice penetrated his funk.

"Ollie, we'll take him," Dick said as Garth, Wally and Donna came up behind him. "You guys rest. It's our turn to play nursemaid." The younger heroes noted that Ollie truly was exhausted because he didn't even argue. Ollie merely gathered Connor, Mia and Dinah together, nodded perfunctorily at Jade, who was still staring down at the coffin, and left.

Donna approached Jade cautiously. "Jade, do you need anything?" she asked softly.

"My daughter would be nice, but-" She was interrupted by Roy's sudden derisive laughter.

"You bitch," he growled, stopped from lunging at her again by Dick and Wally. "Like you really gave a shit. Trying to kill me in front of her, turn her into a Joker. You're pathetic, Jade, and a bad mother." Jade flinched but didn't respond. Roy continued ranting at her in incoherent sentences as he struggled against his friends' hold.

Donna took Jade by the arm and gently pulled her away. "Come, you have your own grief. Did you find a place to stay?" Donna murmured at her as she led the villainous assassin away, talking over Roy's demented shouts. Finally Roy fell silent.

Everyone looked at him. His green eyes were shimmering with unshed tears and his voice broke as he said, "All of you leave me the hell alone." He tore away from Dick and Wally's now slackened grips and raced into the desert.

Dick grabbed Wally's arm before the speedster got up the thought to follow. "You'll be able to find him later. Let him alone for now. He's been surrounded by us and other well-meaning people for a week. He needs to deal with this on his own."


	4. Chapter Three

"They say time heals all wounds," groused Ollie to Connor over dinner one night. "I'm beginning to think that phrase is just bullshit." Mia wisely remained silent. "I'm starting to go beyond worried."

Connor merely forked another mouthful of potatoes into his mouth and kept his opinions to himself. Ollie, in the past few weeks, began losing his temper with Roy's lack of not caring about the world in general. Any attempts to get Roy interested in anything met with a spectacular splat! Ollie wasn't the type to linger overlong on any tragedy. His very personality was quick to move on. Roy's was not. Connor privately thought that was the one huge obstacle in the two's relationship.

Roy moved back into the home he and Lian had in New York City and was no longer in the Queen residence. Obviously three months with Ollie was all Roy could stand. They understood but it didn't stop Ollie from constantly worrying about Roy's health or state of mind. None of the Arrow family had been to visit since their last fateful time in New York. Obviously, Connor thought with a mental sigh, the guilt was weighing down on Ollie.

"Let's go this weekend," Mia piped up suddenly. "We'll surprise him. Help him go through Lian's things."

The two men contemplated going through mounds of toys, most of them bought by Ollie in a bid to spoil his surrogate granddaughter rotten. It didn't sound even remotely appealing, even if it had to be done.

"I don't know," Connor said doubtfully. "Roy's been alone for a couple of months. He'll ask for help if he needs it."

Ollie snorted, tossing his napkin down next to his plate. "No, he won't. No more than I would. He's sitting in that house, surrounded by everything that's Lian's, wallowing in grief and misery."

No one attempted to deny it, considering it was likely true. Just as Mia was going to suggest going again, the phone rang. Ollie leaped to his feet and grabbed the phone off its wall hook. "Hello?" Connor heard the tinny voice of Dinah on the other side. "Goddamn it!" Ollie bellowed followed by a stern admonition by Dinah. "Of _course_ we'll be there! Here, talk to Connor." Ollie unceremoniously tossed the phone at Connor, who, used to his father's unpredictable behavior by now, easily caught it.

"Yes, Dinah?" he asked before sipping some of his water. He choked on it as he comprehended Dinah's words. "We'll be there as-"

"Hi! You guys ready?" Wally West stood in their dining room, looking impatient.

"-soon as the Flash gets here. Which he has." Connor calmly ended the conversation, finished his last bite of cooked carrot and then looked at Mia, who was staring wide-eyed at him and then the Flash. "Roy apparently has slipped into his old drug habits in a bid to drown his sorrows. Dinah caught him shooting up. The Flash," Wally made an impatient gesture of 'hurry up', "is going to speed up our journey considerably."

"Oh dear Lord," sighed Mia and left the table with her plate half-finished.

* * *

A figure watched the surveillance video and listened to the audio with a growing smile. It was a shame about the little girl, honestly, but the situation could not have been more perfect. He wouldn't have had the child die, but he wasn't above taking advantage of her death for his own, and justice's, means.

Jason Todd, now calling himself the Red Hood just to irk his former guardian the Batman, chuckled as he listened to the recording of the fight between Oliver Queen and Roy Harper regarding the latter's descent back into the void of drugs. In a bid to ignore the world and the horrid thing that happened to his beloved daughter, Roy found a drug dealer as soon as he'd lost his watchdogs and started binging. Jason privately thought Roy was hoping he'd get a bad batch and be another fatal statistic. It didn't work, fortunately.

The big Asian woman from the Outsiders, Grace, banged on Harper's door one night, smash it in, disabled the security rather effectively and caught Harper in the midst of shoving a needle full of crap into his veins. Hell came shortly after in the form of Nightwing and Black Canary, with the rest of the original Titans and then Team Arrow hot on their heels.

Jason shook his head. Didn't they see? Roy didn't need lectures. He didn't need admonishments or comments that it "wasn't what Lian would want". Roy Harper needed direction, a path, and Jason Todd just knew he had just the path Harper needed. His path. Red Hood might not have been able to convert the current Speedy to his way of thinking but it was shaping up to look like he'd gone after the wrong Speedy.

* * *

Ollie and Dinah had moved in, Ollie obstinately sleeping in Lian's room so that Roy wouldn't, while Dinah took the third bedroom upstairs. On weekends Connor and Mia came in to help out, using the weekdays to keep Star City under control in Ollie's absence. Staring at the toys that he'd bought, the clothes that Lian loved to wear and all the little girl stuff that everyone delighted in buying the child creeped Oliver out no end being surrounded by it in the dark. When Dinah dusted away the two months worth of dust, Roy went ballistic, which was his usual mode of late.

"Goddamned shrine," Ollie muttered, trying to get his large, long frame comfortable in the tiny, cramped child's bed. It didn't help he was on purple penguin sheets with matching bed covers. His eyes fell to a photo on Lian's nightstand of her and her daddy. It wasn't clear where they were, someplace that was just for the two of them. Ollie considered it in the dim light of the nightlight that was still on next to the bed for the comfort of a little girl who'd occasionally have nightmares.

He'd never really looked at Lian and cataloged her features. She had her father's nose and wide smile. Laughter crinkled both faces in exactly the same spots. Ollie cocked his head a bit. Did they have the same high cheekbones? And their ears. Their ears were shaped similarly as well. Or was Ollie merely seeing more resemblance than there truly was?

The big brown eyes with the almond shape were definitely from her mother. As was the black hair and the rapier sharp mind. Not that you could see her intelligence in a photo. Ollie stared deep into those still life brown eyes. Yes, you could. The glint was there, a glint of awareness of the world around her that no mere five or six year old should have.

She had been happy in that photograph. Roy had been happy. Roy had always been happy when Lian was with him. It was like she...like she...

Tears stabbed at Ollie's eyes, causing him to blink rapidly. He'd cried a little, before the funeral, trying to get the emotion tamped down enough he could remain in control for everyone else. Honest to God, though, he missed the little scamp. She'd been so bright, so cheerful, the perfect example of the nauseating cliché "a little ray of sunshine". She had been sunshine, little Lian Harper, Ollie knew. Hell, she'd made the Batman smile on occasion; if that didn't rate the title 'ray of sunshine', nothing did.

Unable to have the two happy features smiling at him from the photograph any longer, Ollie delicately laid it face down on the table. He rolled over to face the ceiling and wished to hell it was all a horrible, horrible nightmare. Not for his sake. Not for Cheshire's sake. Not even for Lian's sake. But for Roy's.

His boy was trying to kill himself and it was ripping them all apart.

* * *

Red Hood came awake with a start. He'd fallen asleep on watch, which was a rare, but understandable, happenstance. Understandable because he'd been watching Harper's brownstone Manhattan home for the past three days straight. Waiting.

The shadow that Jason had been looking for flickered again, a bit further down the street, heading for an alley. Jason straightened up, waited a few seconds longer before beginning to tail the shadow. Harper was on the move and it didn't take a genius to figure out exactly where he was going.

Queen and Lance thought they'd cut off Harper's smack supply, but apparently they didn't know about all the security features in the Harper residence, which apparently included several escape routes. Jason was pretty damned sure Roy hadn't walked right out the front door for his clandestine date with a hopefully fatal heroin trip.

Jason intended to give Roy another option. An option that, as the Red Hood, Jason could deliver and Harper would be hard pressed to refuse. Now was not the time, though. Harper wasn't ready yet. Wasn't desperate enough yet. He still had options and people to turn too. For this to work, Roy Harper needed to be completely isolated and alone. It was the only way.

Life, Jason reflected, sucked.


	5. Chapter Four

Dinah jolted awake as if from a nightmare. Her senses fairly screamed alarm and the longer she lay in the darkness the more uneasy she became. Something was off about the house. She listened intently but heard nothing unusual. No shadows flickered in the dim light of a nightlight just down the hall from her bedroom door. She still could not shake the premonition of something calamitous.

Disgusted she rolled out of bed, slipped into a robe and slippers to do a quick once through of the house. Dinah shivered as she moved down the hallway. In every corner was a memory of a laughing little girl. No wonder Roy was slowly going mad. She and Ollie had to get him out of here.

She paused at Lian's room and peeked in. Ollie was lying in a horribly cramped fashion on the little bed. He insisted on sleeping there, telling her someone needed to be physically close to Roy, just in case. Neither said outloud what the just in case was. It didn't need to be verbalized. It was obvious. Not that close proximity would stop Roy from trying suicide and both Ollie and Dinah knew it. Being close was supposed to comfort Ollie, she supposed. Besides, arguing with Oliver Queen rarely accomplished anything.

"S'up, pretty bird?" Ollie's sleepy voice slurred at her as he became aware of her standing in the doorway.

She smiled at the nickname in spite of her continuing unease. The name came so easily to Ollie...and Roy. "Something's wrong," she told the blond as he sat up. "I was going to check on Roy."

Ollie gave a huge yawn and rolled off the bed. "I'll join ya. This bed is Purgatory." He stretched and Dinah heard several bones pop back into place.

"You'd know," she teased.

"Only knew heaven, pretty bird," Ollie responded glibly, settling an arm around her waist. "In Heaven and on Earth."

"Silver tongued even at three in the morning," Dinah commented.

"It's a gift," Ollie agreed, as he lead the way to Roy's room.

The blonde archer pushed the door open a bit and peered in. He then slammed the door open hard and cursed. "Sonuvabitch! He's gone!"

Dinah said nothing, surveyed the room in one glance and then marched back to the stairs to her room. "We'll find him. I've had enough of this. He wants to die? Fine. I'll kill him myself."

Ollie watched wide-eyed as Dinah stormed upstairs, then hastened to Lian's room to pull on his own clothes. When Dinah got pissed that meant things were about to come to a head.

* * *

They arrived where Roy collapsed from a bad dose of heroin at the same time as the paramedics. Only told that an anonymous tip was called in to 911, Ollie and Dinah rode in the ambulance to the hospital with Roy. Neither said a word. They'd been told that it wasn't certain Roy would make it.

Roy was rushed into a ward and the doctors did whatever they did. Ollie wasn't sure and didn't really care as long as the heart monitor continued beeping. Dinah disappeared with her cellphone and within two hours the waiting room was full of people concerned for Roy once more.

Nothing was said outloud. Any talking was done in hushed whispers accompanied by furtive glances, usually at Dinah or Ollie. Neither responded to anyone other than nurses, orderlies or doctors. It was obvious that something was going to happen. While everyone had intense sympathy for Roy's situation, no one could really understand what he was going through. A few could easily imagine, being parents, but other than Donna Troy and her hazy memory, a basis of reference was lost on most of the concerned assembled.

"I don't understand," began Hal Jordan, shoving a hand through his tangled brown hair in agitation. "I know he loved her, but my God, does he think dying will make it better?"

"You are assuming that he assumes he has a life worth living without her," snapped a voice from the doorway of the waiting room. It was tense and harsh. Everyone froze. Bruce Wayne stood there, illuminated by the harsh glow of the florescent lamps, almost shadowing his face in a Batman-like way. Everyone present was aware of Batman's civilian identity, which is why he didn't bother to arrive as Batman. "How is he, Oliver?"

"Bad," was all Ollie would answer.

"How bad?" Wayne persisted.

"He might not make it," snapped Dinah, surging to her feet. The weight of the entire mess finally snapped her self-control. "Is that what all of you want to hear? How poor Roy Harper, the screw up, has finally screwed up for good? How sad. What a waste. Get out if that's all the use you're going to be. This room is for family and those who actually give a goddamned about Roy, not how his reputation drags the rest of you down."

Bruce raised an eyebrow as Dinah ended her tirade by poking a finger roughly into his chest for extra emphasis. "I'm recommending that Roy be moved to an exclusive drug rehabilitation clinic as soon as he's in the clear. He will have full time staff watching over him and counseling him." When Dinah opened her mouth, Bruce raised a hand to forestall her. "I've lost my parents, I lost Jason, I know what you're going through." Bruce's lips thinned. "I know what he's going through somewhat. He needs help that we cannot give him, no matter how much we want too."

"Why do you care?" huffed Dinah, still desperate to pick a fight to relieve her own guilt and anger.

Bruce frowned at her. "Do you honestly think I have no regard for Roy? I like him. More, Dick considers him a brother. As far as I'm concerned, Roy is my nephew, in our strange family." Bruce shrugged. "If I need more reason than that then you'll have to think of it yourself."

Dinah sniffled a moment and then marched back to her seat to continue her vigil of Roy's ICU door.

Ollie walked up to Bruce and held out a hand. Bruce shook it. "Thanks," was all Ollie could say.

"You're welcome," was all Bruce could answer.


	6. Chapter Five

Roy regained consciousness and his fowl disposition at the same time. Within hours the hospital was demanding that he be taken elsewhere. The arrangements with the rehabilitation center were made known to Roy as he was being readied for transport.

"Fuck you all," he snapped angrily. "Why didn't you let me die?"

Those packing flowers, balloons, get well soon cards paused to look at him in stunned dismay. It was one thing to know deep down that Roy was trying to kill himself, it was something else to have Roy confirm it in loud tones.

"You think I want to live?" he continued.

"If you'd wanted to die," Dick told him, his own temper starting to slip it's leash, "you'd have found a more efficient method than - NO!" Dick lunged as Roy snagged the medication drip needle from his arm and began slashing at his wrists. There was a brief struggle as Dick, Garth and Connor wrestled with Roy for the sharp implement.

"What the hell, man?" shouted Garth when he felt the sharp pierce of the needle on his skin. He jerked back instinctively, which gave Dick the maneuvering room he needed to wrench the needle from Roy's grasp. "What's wrong with you?" the dismayed Atlantean shouted at his red-haired friend. "Do you think we're enjoying watching you destroy yourself and everything that meant anything to Lian?"

Roy lunged at Garth this time, throwing Dick and Connor off the bed with his maneuver. Garth and Roy fell to the floor, Roy on top as he weakly pummeled his friend. Each blow was weaker than the last but to Garth they felt like hammers as Roy shouted at him.

"You people have no idea what Lian meant to me! You have no idea how many times I stopped myself from hitting the needle again because she was sleeping just down the hall. You have no idea that the only thing that's kept me going in this world I hate, that I don't understand, was that Lian needed me. That Lian loved me!"

"You selfish ass!" Dick jerked Roy off Garth and threw him back on the bed. "She was your daughter, yes, but she meant something to the rest of us. You mean something to the rest of us. That doesn't matter, though, does it? Because nothing in the world means anything unless Roy Harper gives it meaning. You've always been that way, you selfish prick. Get your head out of your ass and put it on your shoulders where it belongs!"

The look Roy gave Dick would have given Batman pause. "If you don't like it, why don't you leave? I don't recall asking you to be here. You aren't my friend."

That last sentence was it for Dick. He threw his hands up in the air, threw the needle into it's disposal and marched out the door without another word.

Garth hauled himself up off the floor and tried to be diplomatic. "Roy, you didn't mean that."

"Yes. I did. And it goes double for you, you useless fish." Roy's face was impassive, as if he'd shut down completely.

Garth looked as if he'd run into a brick wall, then he too left without a word.

Connor watched the entire scene with no little apprehension. When Roy said nothing to him, Connor sidled out the room. This new development was not good.

Ollie awoke as Dick and Garth came storming into the waiting room to grab their things. He watched them silently, knowing instinctively that something profound happened between the two and Roy. Garth finished getting his gear first, nodded perfunctorily to a wide-eyed Mia, who was standing in the other doorway, before stalking out.

Mia handed Ollie a coffee as she watched Dick shoulder his own duffle. "What happened?" she whispered. Ollie shrugged.

"He's a self-centered ass," snapped Dick. "You'd think that none of us ever lost a loved one, the way he carries on."

Mia started to reply but Ollie stopped her with a sharp look. Dick's back was still to them but Ollie could tell from Dick's stance and heaving chest that he was more than just agitated. He was infuriated.

"I know," Ollie said simply after taking a sip of his steaming drink, "but there's a huge difference between him and us."

"What?" Dick demanded belligerently, swinging around to face the older man.

"None of us believe that we deserve to lose our loved ones."

"Ollie!" gasped Mia in dismay.

"It's true. You know it is, Dick." Ollie's lips twisted derisively. "I didn't help counter that belief in him. Hell, I didn't even recognize it was there until it was too late and even then, didn't care to understand it all that much. It was easier for me to lash out at him for both our failings. Nonetheless, Roy believes to his very marrow that he doesn't deserve anyone in his life." Ollie shrugged. "After all, we always leave in some way, don't we?"

Dick was silent, just staring at Ollie with an unreadable expression.

"Brave Bow died on him, left him with me. I was exemplary, as you know," Ollie stated sarcastically. "I essentially neglected and abandoned him, turned on him when he needed me, we all did actually." Dick flinched. "He had to pick himself up, alone, time and time again. Lian was the only thing that depended on him, not the other way around. And now, she's left him too."

"He doesn't think Lian left him on purpose," Mia protested in outrage, glaring angrily at Ollie and then Dick. "He knows it was an accident!"

"No," Ollie told her seriously. "He thinks he did something that made her be taken away from him."

"That's-" Mia stopped. She obviously couldn't vocalize what she thought that statement meant.

"You are probably correct, Dad." Connor walked in and sat down next to Mia. He looked at Dick consideringly. "You probably think the same thing too."

Dick's lips tightened, thinning into white lines of tension.

"He played you and he did it well," Connor commented, still watching Dick. "What's more, you let him play you, you knew he was going to do it and reacted exactly how he wanted you to react. We all know he's pushing us away. The question is why are you letting him win?"

Dick's handed clenched into fists, the duffle dropped to the floor with a ka-thump. "I give up," he enunciated crisply. "I can't fight him continually when he refuses to see anything but despair. If he's done, he's done. I'll mourn him, I'll remember him as the man I knew and loved as a brother and a friend. I'm not going to confirm his inferiority complex merely because he thinks I need too. I'm not going to hang about to be abused to make him feel justified in how he feels." Dick grabbed his duffle up again and marched for the door.

"The thing is, Richard," Ollie told him sadly, "you just did. Confirm it, I mean. You're leaving too."

Dick paused only a fraction and then continued out the door. Mia and Connor exchanged concerned looks and then stared at Ollie, who sipped his coffee with more calm than he felt. At that moment, Ollie had a horrible premonition that things were about to get much worse.

* * *

'Perfect,' thought the Red Hood as he listened to the entire episode via his well-placed, lead-covered bugs. 'Roy is almost ready.'

* * *

"They left, y'know," Ollie said conversationally as he came in a day later to verify Roy was ready for transport to the rehabilitation center. "However, they aren't coming back."

Roy said nothing, merely stared at the ceiling.

"They may as well be dead to you as Lian."

Roy did not flinch. Ollie frowned. Connor stepped in to murmur that the ambulance and orderlies from the rehab center arrived to get Roy.

"You ready?"

Finally Roy spoke. "Fuck off."

Ollie grimaced but reasoned that at least it was response. "How very eloquent, and crude, of you, but no, we aren't go to do that." Ollie motioned to the very large orderlies to begin moving the half-emaciated red-head. "You see, as far as I'm concerned, you're my eldest son. Connor may be my only blood out of the two of you, but you are as much mine as he is. I want to be the father you deserve to have, Roy."

"You've been exemplary so far." Roy's sarcasm was biting, harsh.

Ollie's temper almost slipped it's leash but he held on. "Maybe I wasn't what I should have been back then. A little too late and all that, but you still need me, even if you don't want me, so you've got me. None of this attitude doesn't mean I don't love you, don't care about you. I care, we care whether you live or die and we're horrified to see how far you've gone from us. Roy, don't do this."

As Roy's gurney wheeled past Ollie, he stopped it to lean into Roy's face for his parting shot. "I'm going to fight for you even if I fight against you."

Roy's mossy green eyes focused on Ollie's own green orbs. His lip curled and Ollie was taken aback by the loathing that glimmered in those green depths. "Yeah, you're my hero. I'm a chip off the old block. A failure as a boyfriend, a friend, and a father."

Ollie's face lost all color. Roy had hit every button that Ollie possessed and they both knew it. Ollie's temper almost slipped it's leash once more but Connor's reassuring hand on his father's shoulder stopped the tirade that was threatening to burst forth.

"Nice try," Connor told Roy, his own green eyes steady as he looked down sternly at his older 'brother'.

Roy didn't blink. He spoke again, this time to the orderlies. "Are you with the rehab clinic?"

"Er, yes," answered one of them, rather nervously, after a quick glance at Ollie and Connor.

"These men, or anyone else for that matter, are not allowed to visit me, see me, or anything else. I'll go through the program like a good boy, not cause one bit of trouble. However, if I even hear their names mentioned in passing, catch a glimpse of them on the front lawn, anything, the only way you'll be able to control me will be to kill me. Got it?"

The orderlies exchanged horrified looks. Connor and Roy's eye contact never wavered. Ollie's face turned to granite. Connor's expression did not change, except for his eyes, which turned a dark, tumultuous green.

"Get the jackass out of our sight." Ollie gaped at Connor's almost hateful tone and watched as the orderlies steered Roy Harper away from them.

* * *

Jason smiled as he put away his equipment. Roy was ready.


	7. Chapter Six

He'd been clean for a month. Clean, Red Hood amended to himself, meaning that Roy Harper finished with his withdrawal for a month. As before, Roy would always crave the heroin.

Wryly, Jason noted that he needed a partner, not a dependent. Harper sunk into a morose funk since his body stopped torturing him with the withdrawal. It was now time to give Roy a direction in his life.

Jason's direction.

The rehabilitation center's security was designed mainly to keep people in, not keep them out. Jason had little problem circumventing it. Roy's newly assigned room was in a wing for those who'd completed the physical withdrawal and were working on the mental aspects. A little more freedom for Roy meant easier access to him for Jason.

Jason opened the window to Harper's room with nary a sound. He swung one leg into the room and had his torso halfway in when he felt a hand clamp on his bicep. He was unceremoniously hauled the rest of the way in, was dumped on the floor and he felt a light prick on his throat just below the line of his red, bucket-like hood.

Jason blinked up at the impassive face of his quarry, who held a plastic butter knife to his throat. "You know that line from the Robin Hood movie about cutting a heart out with a spoon?" Jason blinked again and gave a sharp nod. "I haven't got a spoon. Will this work?" Roy brandished the utensil threateningly.

The younger man raised his hands up in surrender. "Hey, hey! I'm on your side!" he protested as amicably as possible, his voice low as not to alert anyone outside the room.

Roy gripped him harder and when Jason felt the knife's edge poke into his throat enough to draw blood, he belatedly realized it wasn't as dull as the average plastic knife.

"Sure you are," Roy muttered sarcastically.

"I know you have no reason to trust me," Jason began placatingly, readjusting his skewed red hood.

Roy snorted an interruption. "You got that right."

"-but I can offer you something no one else has bothered too," Jason continued smoothly, as if Roy hadn't interrupted. His eyes darted from Roy's face to the knife, trying to gauge which way to anticipate any move Harper might make.

Roy Harper had always been an enigma to Jason Todd. As Batman's second Robin protégé, Jason initially dismissed Roy as a second-rate nobody, a Dick Grayson wannabe. Even the few times he worked with Harper with the Titans (during Dick's absence from the team), he'd been unimpressed. The impression was further emphasized when he learned that Roy had an illegitimate daughter with an international assassin named Cheshire. It confirmed to Jason's mind that Harper was just a screw-up nobody.

Until he stumbled upon a conversation between Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, and Bruce Wayne. Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne's butler-cum-surrogate father, awed Jason the first time he met him and his opinion always mattered a lot to Jason, even when things got bad between himself and Bruce. It was Alfred talking that got Jason's attention initially.

"...a daughter will do him good, do you think, Master Dick?"

"It will give him focus. He hasn't had that in a long time." Dick's tone indicated worry and an underlying hint of pleasure.

"Or it will distract him and get him, or someone else, killed." Bruce, as always, was the eternal pessimist.

"Come on, it'll be good for him. For God's sake, he couldn't leave the child with her mother," Dick protested.

"If he needs focus, he should train more," was Bruce's stern response.

Dick's rejoinder was thoughtful. "He's gotten better. I think he's better than Ollie now, with the bow. His aim is much improved and he's got an edge that CBI honed sharp."

"He was always quite the marksman," commented Alfred. "He hit all those maple leaves down by the old fish pond quite accurately."

"Yes, Harper's a better aim than Queen," acknowledged Bruce, to Jason's surprise. He never thought much of Green Arrow either. To hear the respect in Bruce's voice made Jason wonder if he needed to reevaluate his opinions. "However, he still lacks discipline."

Dick's tone had been wry. "Well, he was raised by Ollie, but he's much better. Being away from Ollie and getting his life back together with Black Canary's help did him a world of good. Roy's better than he ever was with the Titans."

"And he was quite a considerable asset then," Alfred observed.

"He got us out of a lot of scrapes, yeah," laughed Dick.

"And into a few as well," admonished Bruce.

"Yeah, but we all were equal partners in that respect most of the time."

Remembering that conversation as the individual in question threatened him with an overly sharpened plastic knife made Jason realize once again he underestimated Roy Harper. This wasn't a second-string hero. With his own talents and abilities, Roy was equal, if not better, of many others.

Jason jerked from his reverie by Roy's tightening grip and growl in his ear. "When you get quiet, I get to wondering if I need to do some physical damage."

Carefully, Jason reached and pulled the red hood off, revealing his domino-masked face. Roy would need to read his facial expressions in order to be convinced of Jason's plan. "I'm going to give you your focus back."

Roy's voice was almost casual. "And just how are you going to do that?"

"I'm going to give you back your future." Jason's voice and expression was sly and smug. "I'm going to show how to bring back Lian."

Roy's expression was arrested as he looked down at his unannounced visitor. "What are you yammering about, you idiot?" He shoved away from the other man and backed up a couple of steps. Never before had Jason appreciated just how dangerous Roy Harper could be. His body moved with the lithe grace of a predator waiting for the kill.

"The Lazarus Pits." He knew in an instant he had Roy's undivided attention. "One dunk and tada! If it worked for me..." He let the thought trail off. Harper might not be the world's greatest detective but he was no slouch in the brains department either.

"It's been too long," Roy protested weakly, collapsing onto a stiff-backed leather chair typical of hospital rooms.

"Not even close," Jason half-taunted, almost gleeful at the reaction. "One dip into the swirly green goop and it's like she- like it never happened."

"It never happened," echoed Roy faintly, almost absently. He came to himself abruptly, looking up at Jason with a sharp, calculating look. "What do you get out it?"

Jason smiled a toothy grin that would have made a shark envious. "The satisfaction of pissing a lot of people off, Talia Al'Ghul and Bruce Wayne being at the top of that list."

Roy continued to stare at him dubiously. "And?"

"I need a partner. You need a partner. Mutual back scratching." Jason shrugged.

"Partner for what?"

"Justice. Real justice," Jason clarified. "No more criminals getting away with murder. No more drug dealers selling death to kids to make a quick buck. No more pimps beating up whores who can't, or won't, sell themselves for nothing. How many times has your daughter been kidnapped by people who shouldn't even be around? How many of those times have people you care about been hurt repeatedly by the same psycho? I can't do it alone. I need help. I need someone who cares."

Roy's gaze was unfocused and he nodded distractedly. "Let me think on it," he muttered.


	8. Chapter Seven

The next evening a dark figure slipped through the rehabilitation center's security once more but did not get far. Jason was feeling confident in Roy's answer and was feeling more than a little cocky at his own success in putting forth a new brand of justice.

"So, I ask myself, do we ring up the body count now?" Jason stumbled to a surprised halt and whipped around to see Roy leaning against a tree, nonchalant and grinning. "Or do we start slow for a maximum buildup?"

"Body count?" asked Jason, taken aback. He figured he'd have to coax Harper out of his room, not have him waiting on the lawn.

"Yeah. I'd vote we start with your list, but I figure the Joker's at the top. So we'll start with mine." Roy flipped a couple of envelope packets at his companion. "Those do?"

Jason ripped open the envelopes and took out the pages, skimming over them in the dim light of the overhead lawn lights. A slow smile spread over his face as he went from page to page. "Yeah," he chuckled, "that's exactly what I'm talking about."

Roy slapped his thigh and sauntered in the direction that Jason skulked from. "Good. First things first. I need a new suit."

"And a new name," added Jason.

Roy snorted. "Don't go thinking you're helping out with that one, former dork wonder. Red Hood? You do know that used to be one of the Joker's monikers."

"Hey, at least I wasn't 'Speedy'," retorted Jason, following in Roy's wake and hurrying to catch up. He matched the taller man stride for stride. "That name didn't even make sense."

"You think?" Roy sounded amused and they lapsed into silence the rest of the way to Jason's vehicle.

* * *

Oliver Queen shoved a trembling hand through his blond hair, trying desperately not to let loose with a string of curses. He surveyed the pristine room that had once been assigned to his eldest son. "He didn't check himself out?"

The beleaguered administrator of the facility sighed in exasperation. They already covered this. "No, sir. He just...wasn't here. Security shows no signs of being tampered with, either. Mr. Wayne insisted I send our surveillance to his security firm, just in case." The administrator paused delicately. "I understand the matter is sensitive, Mr. Queen, but we have to inform the authorities. Mr. Harper could be dangerous."

"Could be?" whispered Mia to Connor, who shushed her.

"He could also be a danger to himself," continued the administrator, not having heard Mia's aside.

"Contact Commissioner Gordon then," Ollie sighed regretfully. "Tell him to keep it on the quiet though. If the press gets wind of this, things could be worse than we imagine."

The administrator nodded as the powerful Oliver Queen left with his two protégés. His only thought was 'uh-oh'.

"Well, hells bells," Mia muttered, "now what do we do?"

Ollie shrugged lamely, staring out at the grounds surrounding the rehab facility. "Wait until he resurfaces, I guess. The boy's got backups and resources just like the rest of us."

Connor nodded but said nothing. Something about the entire situation sat wrong with him, but he couldn't place why.

"Let's go to his place in New York. Maybe he'll show up there." Ollie gestured for them to follow and led the way to the car. "I wish he'd at least called to say-"

"His last words to us were 'fuck off', Dad," Connor stated calmly. "I don't think calling us is an option for him anymore." Ollie and Mia stopped walking and stared at Connor in shock, whether from his attitude or his cursing, Connor wasn't certain. "He has to come to us. No more going to him. It's out of our hands, for now anyway."

Ollie's lips thinned and his green eyes narrowed. Connor stood his ground. He knew it wasn't really in his father to quit, but in this Connor would be adamant. Ollie needed to back down from Roy this once. Connor had every confidence that Roy would find his way home, but only on his terms.

"All right, but we're still checking the house."

Connor knew that was the best he was going to get. "Okay."

* * *

"I never knew being evil was so fun!"

Red Hood grimaced at the almost cheerful comment coming from his partner, the newly christened Monster Slayer. "We're not evil," he retorted, delivering a well-placed kick into the chest of his opponent.

"Eviler than I've ever been," retorted Roy, nocking an arrow and letting it fly at a retreating foe. The arrow flew straight and true, felling the man with nary a sound. Roy turned around, his face practically a grimace as he gazed at Red Hood through his new mask. "You need help?"

"Nah," Red Hood answered calmly and delivered a roundhouse kick that smashed the mook's jaw. "That should do it."

"He's breathing," Monster Slayer pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I save the death and destruction for higher up the food chain."

Monster Slayer snorted and sauntered away, a rolling gait that indicated his fine spirits.

"So I've got to ask," Red Hood said, catching up, "what's with the name?"

"Navajo legend," came the clipped reply.

"Figured that one out." Red Hood frowned, pulling the hood off to reveal his domino-covered face. "Care to be more specific?"

"Monster Slayer was the eldest of two brothers sent out into the world to decimate the monsters preying upon mankind. That's the shortened version. He shot lightning from his bow. I always enjoyed those stories." Monster Slayer turned the corner and hopped onto his motorcycle. "So we going up the food chain on this one tonight?"

Red Hood's frown deepened. "You got a need for more violence? We've taken out more thugs tonight than I have in a month!"

"I'm out of practice," came the reply. "If you're done for the night, I'll bang some more heads and meet you at base later." With that, Red Hood's partner kicked his bike to life and roared away.

"What the hell," sighed Red Hood, mounting and starting his own bike to follow. The night was still young.

* * *

"I think Roy's in New York."

"Well, hello to you too," commented Ollie as he cradled the phone between his cocked head and shoulder as he juggled two glasses and a gallon of milk.

"I'm serious, Ollie." Richard Grayson, to Ollie's estimation, was serious far too often, but in this case he may have a reason to be serious. "If this is Roy's handiwork I'm looking at, then we have a problem."

"What handiwork is that?" Ollie poured the milk, put the jug back into the refrigerator and was reaching for cookies when Dick's next comment stopped him cold.

"An arrow through the chest. If someone had called the paramedics, the victim might have made it. As it is..." Dick let the sentence trail off. It didn't need to spelled out.

"And you know it's Roy how?" demanded Ollie, slamming the cookies down angrily.

"He left his goddamned arrow, Ollie!" exploded Dick on the other side of the line. "He left it just sitting in that man's chest. Didn't even bother to pull it out or even use new ones! Shot with his usual triangulation, normal pull weight, and the damned feathers are even fletched the same!"

Ollie collapsed into a kitchen chair, thankfully close, otherwise he would be on the floor. "What the hell..."

"You told me you checked out his house," Dick accused. "You didn't notice his gear missing?" Ollie couldn't formulate a reply. "Oliver, if he's gone off the deep end..."

"He didn't, he wouldn't," stammered Ollie, coming to with a jolt. "There's something else going on."

Dick sighed. "I keep thinking the same thing, but Ollie..." The younger man couldn't finish the thought and Ollie couldn't blame him. He couldn't either.

"We wait. It's a fluke. We wait."

But it wasn't a fluke. That became patently obvious as four more bodies of low-tier thugs from the streets were littering New York with arrows sticking out of their chest. Everyone was trying to come up with some reason, some logical explanation for the incidents and no one could.

"So what the hell is going on?" asked Dinah in frustration one evening as she and Ollie sat on the front porch, enjoying the cool autumn breeze.

"I don't know," sighed Ollie, lowering his head to her lap and closing his eyes in misery. "I wish I knew, pretty bird, I wish I -"

"OLLIE!" Mia's shout reverberated through the stillness of the evening. "DINAH!"

Both of them leaped to their feet and charged into the house. They screeched to a halt next to Mia, who was gaping at Roy. He was sitting neat as you please at the kitchen table, peeling an apple with a shit-eating grin and a very sharp knife.

Ollie, ever a creature of emotion first, thinking second, raced to his eldest boy and threw his arms around him enthusiastically. "Roy! Thank God!" Roy held the knife away so Ollie wouldn't stab himself with it by accident. Ollie couldn't see his expression, but Dinah and Mia could. Neither female liked it.

Dinah's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here, boyo?" she asked, keeping some semblance of peace for the moment. Ollie pulled away and Roy continued peeling his apple as if he'd never been interrupted by Ollie's greeting. "And what the hell is going on?"

"Going on?" asked Roy with badly feigned innocence. He plopped a cut up piece of apple into his mouth and offered Mia a slice as well with a lascivious wink. The inference was lost on no one in the room.

"Arrows in dozens of dead goons all over New York," prompted Dinah, crossing her arms.

"I'd hardly call five a dozen, Dinah," chided Roy, popping another apple slice into his mouth. He tipped his head to the side. "I'm sorry, you used the plural on that, didn't you?"

"Roy." Dinah's tone was a warning.

"I'm checking in with the old man, letting him know I'm still breathing." Roy tossed Ollie what was left of the apple. "Also, this is a warning. Stay out of my way. I don't want to go head to head with anyone, but I will if you get in my way."

"And what's your 'way', Red Arrow?" asked Ollie, his voice tense and his worry well-concealed. He didn't like this new Roy in his kitchen. The man practically radiated...well, Batman-like qualities.

"Nah, not that lame name anymore." Roy grinned in self-satisfaction as Ollie flinched at the barb. "Got a new one. Monster Slayer. It's got a nice, scary ring to it, I think. Bit of a mouthful, but I figure it was easier to remember than Naayéé neizghání." The three just stared at him blankly. "Sorry, was I rambling? I do that a lot lately, but I suppose it's therapeutic."

"Roy, what's going on?" Mia stepped forward, placing her hand on Roy's arm in a concerned gesture. "Do you need help?"

Roy's grin grew larger and a bit threatening. Mia drew back. "Nah, it's okay, Mia. Got it covered. Me and the new partner. We've got it all covered. Anyway, warning served, so it's time to get back to my new path." He chuckled and Ollie's hair stood up on the back of his neck.

Roy nodded to them and headed for the back door, pausing a moment to ask over his shoulder. "By the way, where exactly did we bury Lian? I vaguely recall it was back home, but I can't remember the right spot. Want to pay my respects."

"Pay your respects?" echoed Dinah in shock.

Ollie's eyes narrowed. "Where you told us too," was his answer.

Roy's green eyes also narrowed a fraction hostilely but the blasé attitude quickly masked it. "Right. Well, I'm sure I'll find it eventually." He gave a cheerful, very insincere wave, and disappeared into the night.

There was silence in the kitchen before Mia vocalized what they were all thinking. "What the fuck was that?" Ollie couldn't even reprimand her language.


	9. Chapter Eight

"Hey, Winger!" Nightwing pulled up sharp at the familiar voice. He turned around to find a costumed-clad figure he didn't recognize saunter up to him.

"Roy?"

"Monster Slayer," corrected the black leather clad individual in front of him.

"What?" Nightwing frowned. "After the Navajo hero?"

"Sure! Why not? You got yours from a Kryptonian one. At least mine's from my own planet." Monster Slayer jogged over and peered over the ledge. "Wanna do targets?"

"Roy, what's going on? There are five thugs in the morgue with your arrows in them." Nightwing folded his arms over his chest in a no-nonsense manner that only made Roy chuckle.

"My job. And yours. And Ollie's. And anyone else too lame to get the scum off the street." Nightwing watched as his friend rolled his shoulders in a limbering move. "Wanna spar instead?" Nightwing said nothing. "Killjoy."

"Takes on a whole new meaning with him, Monster Slayer," chortled a new, more unwelcome voice from the shadows. Nightwing tensed for a fight, a deep feeling of foreboding permeating his body.

"Jason," Nightwing acknowledged.

"Ah ah ah!" Roy wagged an admonishing finger in Nightwing's direction. "We're all wearing our suits. Can't use the secret identity, Dick." The lines around Nightwing's mouth tightened.

Red Hood laughed delightedly. "You were right! You do know the buttons to push on him!"

"It's a gift," Monster Slayer said with false-modesty.

"So this is where you went? To this lunatic?" Nightwing gestured at Red Hood with a moue of disgust. "Gods, Roy, you could have come to any of us for anything you needed!"

Monster Slayer turned his face to Nightwing completely and Nightwing felt his breath leave his body in a whoosh. This wasn't Roy. He didn't know who this man was, but it wasn't Roy. The light in the eyes wasn't just mischief; it was something else, more maniacal, more sinister. The cackle of laughter that issued from this Roy wasn't the usual cackle of mischief Nightwing heard so many times before. This was almost unhinged, out of control, and ... lost.

"Oh, I don't think so, former fearless leader." He and Red Hood both shared a look and more laughter. "I'm giving you, and the other Titans, a warning. Stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours. If we have to cross paths, well," Monster Slayer shrugged.

"Just don't," advised Red Hood from his location some distance away.

Monster Slayer gave a little cheerful wave and the two vigilantes vanished into the dark recesses of the rooftops. Nightwing waited until his nerves stopped jangling, a sign they had left his area, before putting in a call to Star City and Oliver Queen. Learning Roy already dropped in for a social call there, he contacted Oracle.

"Yo!" singsonged Barbara Gordon in cheerful welcome.

"Send me everything you can find on the legends surrounding the Navajo legend of the Monster Slayer."

"What? Why?" Babs sounded confused. "Got a case with someone doing native stuff?"

"Yeah, it's called Roy Harper." Quickly, he filled his former lover in on the happenings of the evening and Roy's visit to the Queen home the night before.

"Gimme two hours and you'll have more than you can handle." Oracle replaced Babs quickly.

"Thanks."

"No problem, handsome," he was assured before the line went dead. Nightwing launched his jumpline to head home and make a sketch of Roy's new costume. There were a lot of people who needed to be updated on the new vigilante Monster Slayer.

* * *

Night hadn't yet fallen and it was almost a month since Jason teamed up with Roy. Jason felt that the time was right for the plan to be revealed to Roy. They were lazily sitting around the Formica table in Jason's crappy apartment, sipping day old coffee and listening to the sounds of the city drumming through the open window. Autumn was waning and Jason had no desire to be living in New York City during the winter in an unheated apartment.

"We have places to go," Jason began. Roy raised an auburn eyebrow in perplexion. "The plan to bring your daughter back."

"I was wondering when we were going to broach this," Roy murmured, tossing the rest of his coffee out the window and earning himself an irate "hey!" from a bum in the alley below. "I'm assuming we're going to make our own Lazarus Pit?"

Jason blinked, not expecting Roy to have caught on so quickly. "If possible," he stated. "I have the list of ingredients. You'd think Batman would have bulked up his security since my last visit." The two men smirked at each other.

"Let me see it." Roy held out a hand in an imperious manner and Jason handed over the paper he'd been perusing earlier. Roy looked over the ingredients, frowning. "These aren't going to be easy. And some of it's natural occurring only."

"Yes," nodded Jason, "but that will be the easy one. This," he pointed to an ingredient, "is only made by two companies in the world."

"I'm guessing the name Wayne is attached to one?" growled Roy, tapping the paper against his jaw in thought.

"Yes, but only recently. And trying for it will tip Bruce Wayne off immediately."

"Going after any of these ingredients is going to set off Bat alarms anyway. We want fast and relatively easy, if possible." Roy headed for the only expensive item in the entire apartment, a complicated array of computer banks that Jason set up for his research.

After several moments of searching, Roy settled back with a snort. "Figures. LexCorps subsidiaries, Wayne subsidiaries and any number of companies that eventually lead to the late and not very lamented Ra's Al-Ghul."

"Yes, I know, but creating a new one or tramping to an old one are our only choices." Jason watched his partner carefully. This would be the final test. Would Roy go the extra length to get what he wanted?

Roy's face was studied indifference for several long moments, staring at the computer screen. "What ingredients do you have so far?"

Jason smiled. "Third on the list only."

Roy laughed mockingly. "That's it?"

"They aren't cheap," Jason retorted, stung despite himself.

Roy gave a Cheshire Cat grin. "Good thing I'm loaded. We'll see what we can purchase under one of my aliases." Jason returned the grin. All according to plan.

* * *

Bruce Wayne went downstairs promptly at 7 p.m., per his usual nightly schedule when no social engagements required his playboy presence. The day's events, be it criminal, items of interest, or possible red flags, were tallied up and readied as he slipped into the Batsuit, leaving the cowl hanging off. He wasn't anticipating anything that evening except a routine patrol of the city and maybe some crisis of one of his fellow vigilante's that needed his detective skills. In short, a boring evening was on the menu for the Batman that chilly December evening.

In the 'items of interest' and 'possible red flag' categories came the purchases of two chemicals that Batman had express interest in keeping an eye on. Both were used in the chemical make up of the Lazarus Pits, used and later recreated by Ra's Al-Ghul and others of his bloodline to cheat death in a variety of ways. Something about the information bothered the Batman but he couldn't place why it would be so. Those who needed it, such as Talia or Nyssa (if the latter was still alive) could easily get the chemicals without needing to purchase them outright from the manufacturer. Something niggled the back of Bruce's brain and he resolved to keep an eye on the situation.

When a week later a third component was purchased from an Asian subsidiary of Wayne Enterprises, Batman decided it was time for further digging. Each item was purchased by someone different, with no obvious link. The individuals in question had nothing in common, not bank, geographic location, or the eminently logical reason for needing that amount of chemical. In some cases there was just enough as per the recipe. In others, too much of the chemical per the recipe. The coincidence was too much for Bruce's suspicious mind, however, and he called Nightwing to have his thoughts bounce off someone else.

"Really?" Dick's voice over the speaker line was perplexed. "No connection whatsoever?"

"None," confirmed Bruce, frowning over the list. "I just can't shake the thought that someone's about to cause some serious mischief."

"Send me the info and I'll look it over. Maybe something will flag with me."

"Very well." Bruce sent the information and waited for Dick to review it.

"Hmmm." Bruce tensed. He knew that particular vocal idiosyncrasy of his adopted eldest son. It meant Dick was on to something but wasn't uncertain as to what at the moment. "Okay, Mr. Raymond Savage purchased the first chemical in Berlin. That couldn't be Vandal Savage, could it?"

"Savage is cleverer than that," rumbled Bruce, having already thought of that and dismissed it as highly unlikely. "But I checked it anyway. Raymond Savage is a thirty-something Caucasian, slight of build, with dark hair and eyes. The only thing Vandal has in common is the coloring."

"Hmm, yeah, okay, chemical number two was purchased via mail order in Singapore by Mr. Martin Nguyen from San Francisco. Wow, is that even enough for making a Lazarus Pit?"

"Barely," Bruce told him. "Very little margin for error."

"Okay, and the last guy...waitaminute." There silence over the line. "No way. He wouldn't. He couldn't be."

"What?" Bruce frowned at the near panic in Dick's voice.

"Every name on this list has some sort of tie to Roy." Dick's voice sounded slightly uncertain but something clicked inside Bruce.

"Explain," he ordered crisply.

"Okay, Raymond is the first name of Roy's former Navajo guardian, Raymond Begay. We've all heard Roy just call him Brave Bow. Apparently that was a nickname Begay got somewhere and it stuck. Really has nothing to do with being Navajo."

"Dick, you're digressing."

"Sorry. Okay, Savage is pretty obvious. Roy and Lian's name came up on Savage's list of living descendants and DNA matches." Dick's voice grew more certain and disturbed as he went. "Martin is the first name of that buddy of his from his CBI days, Martin Santose, and Nguyen is -"

Bruce caught on immediately. "Cheshire's last name."

"The last name is throwing me for a loop though. I get the William but the last name is not something I recognize."

Bruce's lips thinned. "Now that you've figured out the pattern, I can tell you. Willis was Jason Todd's father's name."

"No shit?"

"It seems the two of them are getting ingredients for a Lazarus Pit. Why?" Bruce frowned.

"Why do you think?" Bruce was startled by the sarcasm in Alfred's voice from behind him. "They are going to resurrect Lian."

The two vigilantes were stunned silent until Dick breathed, "Oh my God."


	10. Chapter Nine

"You are both out of your fucking minds," shouted Ollie. Dick and Bruce knew Ollie wouldn't take this news well and they were right. "He would never..." The blonde man took a deep breath and stumbled to a chair, practically collapsing in it. "He can't."

"Why can't he?" reasoned Bruce.

"It goes against everything he believes in," Ollie muttered. "The Navajo do not mess with dead people. The only reason we probably got him to her funeral was because he was practically catatonic."

Dick privately discarded the idea that Roy was catatonic then, considering he still had ghost bruises on his body months later. Roy had hit hard that day. "Ollie, the evidence is clear and what else would the two of them want with chemicals to make a Lazarus Pit?"

Ollie growled something better left unrepeated about Dick's wayward thinking and Bruce's stupidity in going along with it.

"Oliver, with Jason involved, Roy has perfect access to making one. Jason was reintegrated into, well, living by Talia Al'Ghul. He probably has the formula in his pocket for just such an occasion." Bruce sat down with Ollie in an attempt to reason with him. "We have to keep an eye out in case they go after the rest of the formula's chemicals. We have to block them."

"We have to find them," Dick added.

"And how are you going to find them, Richard Grayson?" snapped Ollie. "You think we haven't been trying? I've pulled every contact I, Dinah, Oracle, you, and hell, even Roy's got with every goddamned government and corporation on the planet and I can't get a whiff of him." Ollie slumped. "I'm half tempted to beg Superman to x-ray the effin' planet for him."

"It's a thought," mused Dick, earning himself a disgusted look from Bruce.

"Either or both of them will surface soon enough. We just have to be ready for them when they do," Bruce told both men. Ollie grimaced and Dick nodded resignedly. "We can't let them do what we think they're going to do."

Dick tapped his thigh in thought. "I'm just trying to figure out what Jason gets out of the whole deal."

"A partner, a way to get to me and Bruce, just like when he went after Mia." Ollie stood up and began to pace. "All right, assuming you're correct," he tossed a sour look at Bruce, "and you usually are, damn it, we block them from getting the rest of the chemicals. Then what?"

Bruce and Dick exchanged uneasy looks. "Good question," sighed Dick. "We have no idea. Short of exhuming Lian and transferring her body to another, undisclosed location, I don't know what else we can do. If Roy's gone around the bend enough to attempt something like this, who knows what else he'll try."

"We leave Lian alone. I don't think Roy knows where she is." Ollie's tone was uncompromising. "That was one of the things he asked when he was here. Seems he knew it was on the reservation somewhere but couldn't recall just where. He was fishing."

Dick exchanged another unreadable glance with Bruce. "Fishing?" Dick ventured. "Or offering us a clue as to what he was up too? He didn't reveal Jason to you, but he did to me. They are leaving clues."

"They weren't hiding their trail all that well, once you picked up the pattern of the buyer's names," conceded Bruce. "Do you think they want us to stop them?"

Dick and Ollie both sighed heavily. "I don't know, Bruce," said Dick, "I just don't know."

* * *

"Well shit!" Roy banged down the phone in agitation. "We've been outbid on the thermal whatsit and the other company refuses to sell the last component. And we still have no idea where to go for the natural components needed."

Jason tapped his chin in thought, but wasn't really surprised. In fact, he'd been counting on it. Bruce Wayne was no idiot. The flags on the chemicals undoubtedly went up ages ago. With very few Lazarus Pits operating and none easily accessible considering the amount of trouble Roy would have to go through to get Lian to one of them, Jason figured it was a matter of time before Roy dropped the idea. He, Jason, would just have to wait the archer out.

"You didn't think we'd get it done right away, did you?" Jason asked, returning to his files. He ignored Roy's glower. "Besides, I think it would be interesting if we took out him." Jason tossed the file to Roy, who caught it easily and flipped it open.

The archer's face darkened. "You've got to be kidding. He's a senator."

"He's a rapist and a pedophile, I don't care what his other credentials are." Jason leaned forward and tapped the photo of the man in question. "Everyone else avoids him because he's a senator, so he continues raping men, women and children, ruining lives because he can get away with it."

Roy glanced back at the picture and smiled grimly. "You're right. No more loopholes."

Jason couldn't contain his triumphant smile. "And I know just the place to ambush the bastard."

Roy looked interested. "Yeah?"

Jason laughed. "Oh yeah. We can literally catch him at it red-handed."

* * *

The police took one look at the crime scene, the victims, and promptly contacted the FBI. The FBI went a reluctant step further and called in CBI. After all, with a red arrow sticking out of the chest of a senator in a room full of unclothed young boys, it was obvious vigilantes were involved. From there it was easy for the superhero community to discover what was going on. To the general public, the exact details were hushed. To Oracle, and thus everyone who needed to know, it was knowledge shared and dreaded.

Everyone wasn't sure whether to be horrified or impressed. Most settled on both. The methods were wrong but the result was staggering. It solved a multitude of missing children and child pornography cases in the greater Washington D.C. area. It also solved a few in other locations throughout the country as the ring of the senator's suppliers were rounded up in the follow-up investigations.

Dick could see in his mind's eye Roy and Jason crowing over their victory over two beers. He wasn't sure it was entirely undeserved. Bruce disabused him of that thought as soon as he voiced it over the phone.

"Where is the line?"

"What?"

"Where is the line that they cross to make you see that they are not dealing justice but violence justified by their own reasoning?" Batman was tooling down the interstate around Gotham City, thankful for another slow night.

"Is it not justified? Batman, that senator was responsible -"

"I know, but does it justify his murder? We have due process for a reason, Nightwing." Batman took a sharp turn.

Nightwing blew air out of his mouth, not quite a sigh but awful close. His perch amidst the New York skyline as snow drifted down was beautifully haunting. "I know, but damn, Batman, maybe there was no other way to take this guy down."

"There's always another way. I doubt they even explored other options. Look at how this is being handled in the press. If the senator had been caught alive, it would be more difficult to keep from the press. Now, it's easily swept under the rug."

"Who cares about the press? What matters is the chain effect that the investigation is bringing about. All these dealers in children and their exploitation-"

"-would have been done whether the senator was dead or not. In fact, they may have been able to get more were he alive." Batman felt a twinge of regret for his tone with his 'son'. "I know it hurts, Dick, but we have to look past what they were to what they are becoming. This is vigilantism at it's worst and if it continues, it will be detrimental to us all."

"Yeah, I know," Nightwing conceded. "Wonder who's next on their list?"

"I'm sure the list is considerable."

It was. There were several sensational 'justice kills', as Jason was calling them, but there were more of the low-key and more important deliveries of he and Roy's brand of justice that very few got wind of. The two of them were working smoothly together and Jason was feeling good about their partnership.

Except for one thing: Roy refused to give up on the idea of resurrecting Lian. Jason tried everything to disabuse Roy of the idea. When Roy stopped trying to purchase the chemicals via the aliases Jason helped him set up and use new ones, Jason was forced to send hints and flags to Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen through other means. Jason had to hand it to Roy Harper; the man could be downright devious when he wanted. Jason still had confidence that he could handle Roy, though, and thought nothing of Roy's constant rants at being blocked from purchase and outright theft of what they needed.

"Tell you what," Jason told Roy one morning over coffee in London where they sniped an international spy trading secrets to various radical Islamic organizations, "let's do some snooping and then head for Bangkok for one of those chemicals we need. Tons of crap that needs doing in Southeast Asia, I'm sure. Got a lead on some gem and opium smugglers in Cambodia and Burma using the docks in California and Washington as a way into the US."

Roy considered a moment. "Okay, why not?" He smiled grimly. "Lian'll keep a bit longer."

Jason felt a moment's unease. Roy began talking like his daughter was alive about two weeks ago. It was becoming uncomfortable. "Yeah," he agreed, just be amiable. "She will." 'Forever,' he added silently.


	11. Chapter Ten

"Son of a bitch!" shrieked Grace Choi as an arrow hit her square in the shoulder. "Damn it, Harper, I'm wiping the floor with your ass as soon as I get to it." His mocking laughter drifted to her, making her hackles rise, though from anger or just outright being creeped out, she couldn't say.

His laughter turned into a howl of fury as Metamorpho took a deep breath and plunged head first into the chemical the self-styled Monster Slayer and Red Hood traveled all the way to Southeast Asia for. Metamorpho's own chemical composition, which he changed to create an unstable reaction with the one in the large barrel, caused a rather showy explosion of steam-like gas and minor flames that quickly petered out.

"Goddamn it!" roared Monster Slayer, charging from nowhere and landing square in the middle of Nightwing.

Nightwing, expecting Jason and not Roy, rolled with the punch and grunted in pain when Roy shoved a long shiv into his shoulder. As he slid into unconsciousness Dick had the vague image of the Red Hood watching Monster Slayer's exploding fury from a catwalk above. His last conscious thought was 'interesting' before darkness engulfed him.

* * *

"That's it, I've had it!"

Jason watched with no little apprehension as Roy raged in a trashy alleyway in Kuala Lumpur where they'd finally come to roost having finally lost the Outsiders somewhere along the way. Jason wasn't quite sure where. A dingy alley in Malaysia was not what Jason had in mind while in Southeast Asia. Visions of half naked women in a very plush hotel were foremost in his brain, even if it was juvenile.

"Calm down," Jason soothed. He found himself pinned against a crumbling wall.

"Calm down? Calm down?" Roy's voice rose an octave. "You're telling me to calm down?" His green eyes narrowed behind the strange mask he'd lately adopted in his guise as 'Monster Slayer'. Jason hated it but refrained from telling Roy so. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you've been orchestrating the entire thing," Roy stated menacingly.

"Well, since you know better you know I'm not," Jason retorted, wrenching himself from Roy's grip. "So making a pit isn't going to work? Fine, we'll dig her up and drag her to one already made."

Jason found himself slammed against the wall again, Roy's visage more dangerous than it had ever been. "That's my daughter your filthy mouth is talking about, weasel. Show some fucking respect."

In that moment, Jason Todd realized he'd never been in control. In dismay, he watched as Roy dug around in a small duffle and brought out a small teakwood case. The redhead opened it to reveal a needle, a rubber armband, and a large vial of clear liquid. His stomach dropped. No, he'd never been in control of anything since he'd hatched this plan. He saw it clear as day now.

Roy prepared the injection as Jason watched and, when finished, sighed with a relief that Jason could only imagine. How long had Roy been on the drug and Jason had not known? He couldn't say.

"Done? We still have to continue fleeing for our life." Jason's voice was clipped.

Roy grinned a rather loopy grin. "Let the edge come off first, then we'll go. Not like I can take this with me on the plane."

"What plane? We're on a boat, idiot." Jason snorted in disgust. He'd been outplayed by this? "We can't take a plane. The Outsiders will have who know who looking out for us."

Roy smiled a smile that would have done a shark proud. He dug around in his pack again and tossed Jason a small packet. "Well, Mr. Philips, I'll meet you in Arizona." Jason gaped at his passport, complete with photo id, slightly blurry as they sometimes were.

"Fine. See you there in a week."

"A week," Roy echoed in a hazy voice as the drug worked its way completely into his system. "Perfect."

Jason snorted and stalked away. He was in trouble, but he didn't know how to get out of it.

* * *

"Thank you, Hosteen," Roy said with proper deference to an elder as he backed out of the store. Jason watched as Roy clambered into the SUV and rammed the gear into drive.

"Well?"

"Ollie picked a great spot," was all Roy would say and Jason sighed with no little irritation.

"Fine, whatever." Jason tensed a moment at Roy's hard sideways glance but then relaxed as the calm Arizona scenery flowed around him. "This place is gorgeous," he said as a way of apology a bit later into the drive.

"The best," came Roy's agreement.

"You're gonna have to tell me some of the stories sometime."

Roy gave him a brotherly punch in the shoulder, his mercurial mood cheerful once more. "I'll do just that."

After three hours of digging, searching and more digging, Jason wished to hell someone put the little girl's body on a pyre. It would have saved everyone a load of trouble, especially himself. His back, hands, knees, shoulders, and other body parts ached like they'd never ached before.

Roy sat next to the dirty metal coffin, patting it and crooning to it's occupant. Jason turned away; he couldn't bear to look if Harper opened the case. Thankfully, he didn't. Finally they lifted it and hauled it to the SUV, loading it carefully into the back for the trip to Flagstaff and the private plane they'd purchased with the last large load of Roy's formerly substantial account.

Roy chattered to Jason and Lian on the trip, with Jason making appropriate noises and Lian nothing at all, as to be expected. It was obvious to Jason that Roy was rapidly becoming unhinged but with typical Jason arrogance figured he could at least keep a lid on it until Lian was resurrected. Surely, Jason reasoned desperately, Lian will straighten her daddy back out.

They reached Flagstaff with no problems, waited until nightfall to load Lian's coffin before taking flight from the beautiful landscape of Roy's home state. They briefly refueled in Mexico, to avoid the American authorities getting nosy as to their cargo, and headed for the South Pacific. There were four possible locations that Jason reasoned Roy could use for Lian's resurrection, according to Talia's databanks. Jason desperately prayed that none of them were functioning.

Considering the pits sat on the mystical leylines, there were presumably many spots where undiscovered pits resided, or could easily be made using the natural chemicals present. However, for Roy's purposes, they needed one already made. The problem with the Lazarus Pits was that they lost potency oft-times after use, which was why Ra's Al'Ghul often globe trotted to others, rotating their uses and thus preserving their potency. At least, that was how Jason understood it.

Ra's' daughter Nyssa found a way to keep the pits replenished without rotating but Jason wasn't certain they could make their way safely to the Balkans before someone got wise to them and caught up. So Jason pointed Roy to a little known pit used by Ra's only once and then abandoned due it's inconvenient location in the South Pacific islands.

Or to be more precise, a tiny island called Mitiaro in the Cook Islands. Buried deep in the earth was the pit. Jason's harbored two hopes: that the pit didn't work and that Superman would catch up to them. If not, he didn't know what he was going to do.

The flight was a disaster. Roy talked continually of his plans for Lian's future. It was as if Lian's proximity solidified Roy's drop off the deep end of his mind. Plans of training Lian, who would train her and for what purposes, teaming up with Cheshire (never a good plan to Jason's way of thinking) and other more radical thoughts burst from Roy's mouth randomly. One thing was clear, though, and that was Roy had no intention of Lian being anything but an instrument of death.

"She'll meet out more justice to those who deserve it than we'll ever hope too, Jason," Roy told him, caressing the coffin lovingly. Jason could only stare at Roy in muted horror.

The plane landed on a crumbling runway that was mostly jungle. The League of Assassins clearly had no interest in the location anymore. 'Thank goodness for small favors,' Jason thought savagely as he helped Roy tug Lian's coffin to a worn out Jeep that likely dated from World War II. They loaded the coffin and headed to where Jason's intel from Talia's databanks directed. Jason realized maybe he should have left well enough alone when dealing with Talia's information.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty.


	12. Chapter Eleven

If the hot, humid, mosquito-infested environment was Jason's idea of Purgatory, then the underground location was easily Hell. It was easy enough to see why, other than keeping out Japanese and American troops during World War II, Ra's Al'Ghul used the pit only once. Jason figured it had to have been an emergency for that one occurrence. Making a pit on the moon would have been more convenient.

At first both men were glad of the coolness of the underground passageway leading to the pit's chamber. The deeper they went, however, the hotter it became. The island's core was volcanic, Jason realized, and as such would hold one of the essential natural ingredients in a powerful concentration than many other pits. It was perhaps why Ra's abandoned it in the first place. It's instability for Ra's purposes may work in favor of Roy Harper's resurrection of his daughter.

Jason groaned quietly to himself. His own arrogance got him into this but he had no idea how to get out with everyone more or less intact. His mind unwittingly turned to a message he'd received two weeks ago to one of his aliases. There was little mystery as to who sent the message or how the sender had known the alias was Jason's. The message merely said, "You are going too far. Stop while you can." By then, however, Jason knew the damage to Roy's mind was irreversible. In a sense of a helpless need to redeem his actions Jason was now only along for the ride.

The pit was small, maybe twelve feet in diameter. The deep bubbles that made slow "blurp" sounds indicated that what the pit lacked in size around it undoubtedly made for in depth. With blank clarity, Jason wondered if Roy figured out how to get Lian in and out of the pit.

A wrecked pulley hung haphazardly above the pit, swinging lazily as Roy tugged experimentally on a dangling end. The red-head then jerked hard and the entire pulley broke away from it's tenuous hold in the rock ceiling and landed with a crash at the edge of the pit.

"Shit." Roy shoved a shaking hand through his coppery-red hair before turning to Jason. "Any ideas?"

Somehow Jason didn't think turning around and giving up was going to be a welcome suggestion. "I'd say tie the rope around the box. We'd have to ventilate it first so the..." His voice trailed off at Roy's thunderous expression.

"You want my little girl to wake up in a coffin?" Roy snarled.

"There's no other way, Roy. Besides," Jason added, "the initial insanity of the chemicals block about ten minutes of waking memory. She won't remember anything except coming to in your arms."

Roy turned stubborn. "No," he stated unequivocally. Jason sighed, offering a mute shrug in response. "Take her out, hook the rope around her torso and lower her in," commanded Roy softly.

Jason gaped at him, utterly revolted. "You...me...why don't you do it?" he demanded.

"I'm not touching a dead body," Roy countered, practically radiating as much fury as the volcano beneath their feet. Jason continued to stare at him in shock so Roy swiped something from behind him. Jason found himself staring down the barrel of a Ruger he'd not known Roy was carrying. "I said do it."

Hands shaking and willing himself not to breath, Jason pried open the coffin. He deliberately distanced his mind from what he was doing, so he couldn't, except on a functional level, comprehend what he did. He gathered the rope, tied in firmly yet gently against the tiny, caved torso. He then carried the fragile body over to the bubbling natural cauldron and gently set the little girl in. The pit immediately began to churn was the tiny body was submerged. Apprehensively both men watched the pit's reaction, waiting and wondering if the plan worked.

"How long will it take?" Roy asked in a hoarse voice, green eyes riveted on the rope as it twitched in time with the pit's frothing activity. The pistol never wavered from it's position at Jason heart.

"Not sure. Anywhere from ten minutes to an hour, I'd guess." Taking advantage of Roy's fascinated distraction, Jason palmed a shiriken from one of his own hidden pockets. A plan formed in his mind with inescapable clarity: he had to get Lian Harper and himself out of here.

Without Roy.

The chemicals within the stone cauldron started to turn from a putrid lime-green yellow to a yellowish bronze. This, Jason knew, meant that whatever damage or restoration the pit was going to do was almost complete. For Lian's sake, and his own, Jason hoped that it didn't work. He could handle dying here. It was more than he deserved.

At a motion from Roy's pistol Jason reached for the quivering rope to haul up the result only to have it twitched from his grasp. Laughter, musical and maniacal at the same time, echoed throughout the chamber. Roy eagerly rushed forward as two tiny hand hauled the alive form of a small black-haired nymph rising from the pit.

"Lian!" Roy cried with joy and hugged his child tightly. Jason wasn't certain whether the tight hug was by design or not, to keep the temporarily maddened child from doing any serious harm to those around her.

How much time passed Jason wasn't certain; five, ten or thirty minutes, it mattered little. It felt like an eternity as Jason waited for the moment to strike. The decision was made when Lian queried tiredly, "Daddy? What happened?"

As Roy babbled at her, Jason acted. The shiriken flew true, striking Roy in the temple with the flat edge, felling the other man. Both Harpers fell to the stone floor. Jason waited only a couple of seconds for a reaction from his adult companion. Seeing none, Jason rushed over, scooped up the little girl and made for the exit. With luck he could reach the Jeep and then the plane before Roy returned to consciousness.

Lian was still so out of it that she offered little resistance as Jason drove the battered Jeep to the airstrip. Shock and exhaustion, Jason knew intimately, would plague the child for many weeks as her body expelled the poison and adjusted once more to life.

As the plane taxied the last length of the runway, Jason felt his neck prickle. At the edge of airstrip, just in view one of the mirror's, stood Roy Harper, his face a brooding stone of hate and retribution. Jason understood that look to mean that he would have to take drastic steps in order to remain ahead of the race to the States and new guardians. Jason was going to have to make a call for Superman.

The Red Hood really was in over his head.

Jason managed to limp to the closest Hawaiian island. He was certain the plane arrived with only fumes running it. The authorities, unimpressed with his unorthodox approach and landing, took Lian and Jason into immediate custody. It took several hours for Jason to wheedle the authorities into contacting the Justice League. In the meantime, he'd managed to get Lian into a medical facility as well. By the time the two of them arrived in Honolulu after some island hopping as the authorities debated Jason's mental stability, Superman and Batman were waiting. As Jason had known it would, his name sent up flags that let Batman know his location and the Watchtower as well. Neither looked very happy.

The three adults conferenced while Lian fitfully slept on a couch in the conference room the three appropriated. They were discussing what to do when Batman's belt beeped. He took out a communication device and frowned at the i.d. "Nightwing," he told them.

Jason shifted uncomfortably in his chair while Superman scowled at him. "Tell him we'll be there in an hour."

"Where?" Batman frowned.

"The Hall of Justice." Superman strode over to the couch, gently tucked the blanket tightly around Lian and headed for the door. "While I'm gone, you two have a chat. I"ll come back for you next, Red Hood."

Jason involuntarily winced at the hard edge Superman used with his moniker.

After Superman departed, silence reigned. Jason wouldn't look at Batman, though he knew the older studied him intently. "You know, I would not be able to get away with doing this to Dick."

Jason scowled and turned to face his former mentor. "Do what-" he began. Batman's fist connected solidly with his jaw and Jason hit the floor, unconscious to the world. When Superman returned only a few minutes later, it was to find Batman staring absently out at the distant Pearl Harbor and the Red Hood flat on the floor, still out cold.

"The difference between you and me," Superman noted, hoisting Jason onto his right shoulder like a sack of feed, "is that I'd have kicked him when I walked by."

"I did," Batman told his friend as the Man of Steel headed for the door. "Now hurry up. We have plans to make."


	13. Chapter Twelve

"I want my daddy!" Lian's voice was strident and petulant. Never before had she felt so scared without the certain knowledge that her daddy was nearby or on his way to rescue her. Never before had she felt that her daddy's friends, her 'aunts' and 'uncles' were a threat to her. She didn't understand what was going on and no one was certain how to explain it to her.

Or whether they should.

Since landing in Los Angeles under his own name and no intent to hide his entry into the country, Roy Harper then disappeared off the radar. He undoubtedly continued to head east where he knew his daughter was, but when and how he would arrive was anyone's guess.

The Outsiders and Team Arrow members rotated surveillance for Roy's whereabouts. The Titans, both original five and various incarnations' membership, helped where needed and took care of Lian. She'd become so unmanageable and increasingly rebellious that, in desperation, Dinah Lance finally contacted Belle Reve Prison for a video conference call with Cheshire between daughter and mother. The video reunion went so badly Dinah's temper snapped and Lian received the first spanking of her life.

"It didn't work," Dinah confessed in frustration to Batman later. "She just glared at me hatefully and marched to her room for the rest of the day and night."

"This strain on her is not good," Batman observed.

"For anyone," Dinah agreed, tiredly rubbing her face. "I don't know what we're going to do."

Lian's attitude wasn't the only stress point among those who cared for Roy's welfare. A verbal spar broke out between the Titans and Team Arrow. Blows were almost exchanged between Grace Choi and Oliver Queen. It wasn't the question of how to redeem Roy that had everyone up in arms. It was a foregone conclusion that Roy was irredeemable, painful though that realization had become. The point being fought over was whose responsibility was it to bring Roy down.

For down he had to come.

When an actual exchange of fists and feet erupted between Donna Troy and Connor Hawke, of all people, Batman forced the entire group to sit down, with himself as mediator/referee. Both sides had strong cases in their favor, but privately Batman knew how it would turn out. Only Ollie could take Roy down. It wasn't skill or willpower. It was something that only Ollie could do. It was a gut feeling, one the Batman knew quite well, for he felt the same about Nightwing. If Nightwing ever went rogue, others might try, the powered such as Superman might succeed, but in the heart of it, only the Batman could bring his own protégé down. The same would be for Oliver Queen.

It was decided, grudgingly by some, that the original Titans would be the first to go after Roy. The four young people bristled at the idea that they would fail, but Batman was adamant that it was entirely possible. Roy, after all, knew their weaknesses better than most. If the Titans fell, then Team Arrow would be next. After that, the big guns would be sent in, those heroes with superpowers that could easily overpower Roy in a battle. Superman and Wonder Woman argued with Batman that it was expedient that Roy be taken down, regardless of whose toes got stepped on.

"If Donna went rogue wouldn't you rather friends who gave a damned about her took care of it with some semblance of respect and regret, other than those to whom she'd just become another villain?" Batman countered.

"We know Roy," argued Superman. "We considered him part of our collective family."

"Not like the Titans," Batman replied, "and not like Ollie, Connor, Mia, or Dinah. This is a family matter, for the moment." No one said anything after that. The Batman hath spoken.

Garth came stumbling into the room where several heroes waiting on word of Roy were gathered. His face was numb with shock. "The old alarms at Titans Island went off. I engaged the security cameras for the area. Roy's there, waiting."

"Waiting?" asked Nightwing.

"Waiting. In fact, he flipped off the camera." Garth couldn't help but smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Nice to know he still has that irreverence," Donna commented dryly.

Wally looked tense as he pulled his red cowl over his face. "Let's get this nightmare over with."

The four landed on Titans Island and began to carefully look around. Traps were the ideal things they were searching for, as they doubted that Roy would remain in the open once he knew they were there. The more they searched, however, the uneasier they became.

"Well, hell!" blasphemed Wally, putting his hands on his hips in a characteristic gesture of impatience. "Where is he?"

No one heard the whistling of the arrow until after Wally fell. He writhed and gasped, his muscles spasming and bulging under his skin. The other three gaped in horror for the briefest moment before taking up defensive positions.

"Where is he?" shouted Donna as Garth bent over to check on Wally.

"I don't know," ground out Nightwing, his eyes roaming the ruins of Titans Tower and the nearby embankment where they had, as a team, once goofed around in camaraderie. "Garth, what's Wally's condition?"

Garth's huff from behind Nightwing didn't sound encouraging. "I have no idea. He's not moving now, but he's alive...barely."

"What'd he hit him with?" wondered Donna, chancing a glance down at the felled speedster. "Any poisons or toxins would be quickly sped through Wally's system with no detriment!"

Nightwing's lips thinned. "Probably something like Sharp, that drug that Luthor figured out to use against speedsters in his Everyman Project." Both Garth and Donna grunted an angry acknowledgment. Sharp was known to regulate a speedster, even one as powerful as the Flash, to a regular metabolism. While not fatal in small doses, it was undoubtedly painful.

Garth held up the arrow injector. "My God, how much did Roy shoot into him?"

Nightwing eyed the container. "Enough to kill him." The other two couldn't contain their gasps. Nightwing tapped his visor's communications relay, so it would contact Batman. "Wally's down. Sharp in a lethal dose it looks like. We'll get Roy off the island."

Garth suddenly took off like a shot and dove off the cliff's edge.

"What did he see?" asked Donna, hurrying over to Nightwing, who had tried to follow Garth. In the distance they could see a dot of a speedboat heading for the distant waterway that connected Lower New York Bay to Upper New York Bay. Without a word, Nightwing held his arms up, Donna grabbed them and regretfully the two gave their fallen comrade a final look before flying off after Roy and Garth.

Nightwing and Donna caught up with Garth and Roy in mid-battle at Battery Park, a stone's throw (as a Titan flies) from ground zero of the former World Trade Center complex. In typical fashion, Donna dropped Nightwing and headed into the fray.

Roy danced out of her path with a wicked laugh and a singsong comment. "Ah ah ah, Wonder Chick! I only dance one at a time!" He gave a cackle that made Nightwing's hair stand on end and, without even looking at Garth, fired at the Atlantean. Garth, who'd paused to take a breather when he thought Roy was distracted with Donna, had no time to react.

Foam exploded from the arrow's tip, coating Garth in a heavy mist and immediately began to expand. "What the hell?" whispered Nightwing in shock just before Garth began to shout in panic.

"Get it off! It's sucking out the wat-" His voice abruptly silenced.

Donna stopped sparring with Roy when the foam tip popped. In that space of a few moments, Roy vanished. The two remaining Titans exchanged glances. "We can't do this one at a time," Donna told her companion as he called in Garth's fall.

They stayed until help arrived for Garth. Superman was peeling away the foam and Wonder Woman was still shouting that this was ridiculous as Nightwing and Donna Troy slipped off, determined not to engage Roy in any fashion except as a pair. Perhaps with two ready for him, the archer would have less of a shot, so to speak, of taking them down.

At Time's Square, the two remaining Titans found Roy, standing in the open on a marquee sign, leering at them. The two paused and evaluated their surroundings. Tourists, New Yorkers and the steady flow of everyday New York vehicle traffic would prove troublesome during any confrontation they might have with Roy here. Nightwing had the sneaking suspicion that this was exactly what Roy wanted. If Donna and Nightwing were too busy worrying about innocent bystanders, which by now Roy didn't care about, then they'd be easy to manipulate and take down.

"How are we going to do this?" asked Donna worriedly, chewing on her lower lip as she hovered slightly in the air. A few tourists snapped her photo and gaped.

"I have no idea," admitted Nightwing. "Play the waiting game, I guess."

Roy grinned suddenly at them, drew his bow and shot into the distance. There was a sudden squeal of tires, screaming and the crunch of cars striking each others.

"Goddamn it!" roared Nightwing as Donna zipped over to help those affected by Roy's carefully planned trap. "Donna! No!"

Quicker than Nightwing shouted warning, Roy drew several arrows from his quiver and fired them, one at a time in rapid succession. By the time Nightwing got one of his Batarangs flying to Roy, the archer shifted his position enough that the object sailed harmlessly passed him.

"No, no, no," chanted Nightwing, reaching Donna to find what he couldn't see over the milling, terrified crowd.

Pinned to the ground with what looked like a titanium or Prometheus alloy net, Donna struggled painfully with six arrows, two in her shoulders, ribcage and thighs. "Poison," she gasped before falling unconscious.

Nightwing saw red. It was now no holds barred between himself and Roy. The longtime fight between Robin and Speedy over who was the better commenced.

Nightwing was careful. Roy was leading him into a trap, that was certain. Everything that happened thus far was carefully planned and executed. Roy knew them all too well, as Batman predicted. Desperate to quell the anger rising like a tidal wave deep within, Nightwing tracked Roy's movements. He took his time, didn't rush. Roy's periodic public appearances were taunts to draw Nightwing in. Nightwing refused to play that game again.

The cat and mouse game continued through Manhattan. The locations were like a tourist's guidebook all in the vicinity of the Empire State Building: New York Public Library, Grand Central Station, and Rockefeller Center. The weaving of streets afforded the two to catch glimpses of each other on rooftops and ducking into alleyways. Nightwing backtracked finally to a building in the vicinity of the Dahesh Museum of Art.

Figuring Roy was still north of him, Nightwing settled his back against a fan vent overhead and thought about what to do next. Ideally, he should call Ollie and the rest of the so-called Team Arrow. With a sigh of remorse, Nightwing flipped on his communicator. "Watchtower, this is Nightwing. I think it's time-"

"Time for you to duck and cover!" rang out a growling voice above him on the vent overhead.

'Shit!' thought Nightwing as he dove for cover. With a grunt, he felt three arrows hit his back and numbness spread through his body. He rolled onto his side and stared in muted horror at his former friend, grinning down at him like the Joker.

"You know, I figured you'd head for the high ground." Roy thumbed in the direction of the Empire State Building towering over them even many blocks away. "But this works just as well. Bye!" Roy waggled in his fingers and ran to the edge, making a flying jump to vanish into the waning afternoon sun.

"Nightwing?" asked a panicked voice over his mask's communicator.

"Next," murmured Nightwing as darkness, and the poison in his system, overtook him.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Ollie watched as Superman, Wonder Woman or other heroes brought one Titan after another in until the only one left was Nightwing. He stared at the blip on the on screen map of Manhattan Island that designated Nightwing's position. Count on Batman to be so paranoid as to bug his own kid. Ollie was beginning to wish he'd done the same to Roy now.

"Watchtower, this is Nightwing." Ollie leaned forward as Nightwing's voice filtered into the communications room. "I think it's time -" The acrobat was cut off by someone speaking, but Ollie couldn't make out the words. There was a shuffling sound followed by three distinct thunks that could be mistaken for nothing but impacts of arrows.

"Nightwing?" Ollie shouted, causing several people, Batman included, to come tearing in from other areas.

A ragged breath made the group at large wince in sympathy and Nightwing's weak voice muttered, "Next," before silence reigned.

Everyone stood silent for a moment and then Ollie stood up resolutely. He looked at Dinah, Connor and Mia with a hardened expression. "Get your gear and let's go." The younger members of the little family did as ordered. Dinah and Ollie stood waiting, Dinah tapping her foot impatiently.

"Oliver." Ollie glanced over at the Batman, who was standing off to the side, motioning for him to join the darkly clad man.

"What?" Ollie stalked over, agitated over the coming confrontation.

"Send them elsewhere," Batman told him in a serious tone. "You know where Roy is going."

"Central Park." Ollie was grim. From her spot, Dinah opened her mouth to mount a protest but snapped it closed at the fierce look from Batman.

"Only you can finish this," Batman told Ollie, reaching up to pull back the cowl. Ollie was almost undone by the sympathy and sorrow in the blue eyes of his friend. "This can end with Superman or Wonder Woman, true, but it won't be closed unless it's you and you alone."

Ollie's green eyes teared briefly but the archer blinked them ruthlessly back. "I know." He tried a cocky grin but failed. Somehow Bruce understood, nodding resolutely. "If I fail..." Ollie couldn't finish the sentence.

"We won't," Bruce assured him.

Connor and Mia entered, quivers slung on their backs and bow strings taut. "We're ready, Dad," Connor told his sire somberly.

Ollie couldn't speak. He and Dinah exchanged unreadable glances and headed for the transporter that would send them to Earth.

* * *

Connor and Mia protested vociferously at the plan Ollie informed them of the moment they materialized in Time's Square. Dinah solved the issue with a terse, "Do it," before going to her assigned location of where Nightwing fell. Connor and Mia looked mutinous but accepted their assignments with no further protest. Soon they were settled at St. Patrick's Cathedral and Liberty Island respectively, hopefully well out of harm's way. Ollie headed for Central Park and his worst nightmare.

Heckscher Playground was surprisingly low on visitors, to Ollie's relief. Entering the Park itself created a bit of a stir, as tourists and children alike pointed at him. One small child Ollie heard tell her mother that the man must be Robin Hood in a play at the Park and could they go see him?

As he stepped beneath the shade of some trees by the swings, Ollie pressed his green mask on his face and stared at the swing set. There, on the ground, was where Lian had fallen, never to get up again, until her daddy lost his mind and did the unthinkable.

"Creepy, isn't it?"

Ollie took a deep breath and willed himself to be Green Arrow, do-gooder against bad guys, and not the adopted father of the man standing companionably next to him.

"Aren't you going to say anything, old man?" asked Roy conversationally, as if they weren't going to fight, as if they were meeting for a drink down at the pub.

"It's a bit strange, yes," Ollie admitted. "I'm trying to think of stranger and can't seem to think of anything."

"Alien starfish come to mind," chuckled Roy and Ollie shivered. The entire situation was progressing into the grotesque. They were silent for long minutes, Ollie wasn't sure how long, before Roy spoke again. "So, was it worth it?" The jovial man from just before disappeared. He was all business now.

"What?" Ollie asked hoarsely.

Roy's face peered into Ollie's line of sight, blinking almost owlishly at him in surprise. "Lian, of course," Roy said in exasperation. "Did it work?"

Ollie blinked. "Oh, that. Yeah, it worked."

Roy's face relaxed into a relieved smile. "Oh good. She's okay then?"

Ollie felt his stomach clench. "No."

Roy's face fell. "What's wrong?" He was alarmed.

"She wants her daddy."

Roy's expression mottled with anger. "That's what I'm doing! Why won't you let me get to her?"

The time for civility was over, Ollie decided. "You aren't any father of hers that she'd recognize." Ollie took advantage of Roy's momentary shock to pull out a bo staff, collapsed in a similar fashion to the current Robin's, extending it out with one swift movement and sending it whistling toward Roy's head.

Roy jumped out of the way, pulling out black escrima sticks. The escrima sticks that had, at one time, been used by one of Roy's best friends, the fallen Nightwing. Roy blocked Ollie's swing, barely, and countered. Ollie blocked that and the two were soon engaged in one-on-one melee combat.

The few parents and children present scattered quickly. Ollie knew that the police were being summoned as the two of them fought. They were evenly matched, both determined, but Ollie felt an edge over Roy. Roy dodged, tripping over a teeter totter from one of Ollie's move. Roy was tired from his chase with the Titans and Ollie could feel his opponent's fatigue. Ollie feinted, but lost his balance and falling into the swing set, getting tangled in the chains. Roy took advantage of Ollie's distraction to run. Ollie disentangled himself and gave chase.

Ollie pelted after Roy, who was heading for the carousel area. The green-clad archer had a moment's fear of Roy using the crowd surrounding the tiny fair-like area as another battleground, but Roy merely used the lines waiting for their turn on the 50 year old carousel as a means to delay his pursuer. "Look, Mommy!" Ollie heard a young boy's voice call out. "Robin Hood is chasing the sheriff!" He would have smiled if the situation warranted it.

An arrow whistled past Ollie's ear and he flattened himself right before he reached the sidewalk path on the other side of the carousel. He waited a moment, hauled himself to his feet and continued to give chase. Ollie reached the Sheep Meadow to see Roy tearing across it, jumping blankets of picnickers and knocking down Frisbee players. It was the first warm day in months and New Yorkers were out enjoying the sunshine. Ollie half-wished the meadow still housed sheep, then remembered that Roy once helped raise sheep in Arizona and undoubtedly would have stampeded them into Ollie or something.

Ollie caught up to Roy and again they engaged in a brief tussle but Roy wriggled free and was off again. Ollie's sense of direction was off but he now knew where Roy was headed. The picture of he and Lian, looking so happy, that sat on Lian's beside table. The location that Ollie hadn't recognized at the time. He knew it now, he knew where Roy was going.

Hoofbeats coming up behind him alerted Ollie to the presence of the Park officers on horseback. "Police!" came the shout. A few gawking onlookers scattered.

Ollie raised up his hand. "Justice League," he told them. "I'm chasing a suspect. Please, can I borrow one of your mounts?"

There was a moment's hesitation on the part of the police before one of them gave a terse nod, dismounted and handed Ollie the reigns. "He's got a powerful stride and is an excellent jumper," the policeman told Ollie. "Easy on the mouth, he responds to light touch."

"Thanks," Ollie said, trying to smile. "Have someone contact the League. Tell them I have him. They'll know what you mean."

"We will," assured the other policeman, still mounted. "Good luck, Green Arrow."

"I'm gonna need it," he told them before urging the horse into a run, weaving easily around Park visitors as he headed to the last place a violent confrontation should ever happen in Central Park.

Strawberry Fields.

Ollie easily beat Roy there, even taking the roundabout route of the paved path. He dismounted and smacked the horse on the rump to send it galloping away. It was well-trained, it knew where to go when without a rider. Now all that was left was for Ollie to wait.

He didn't have to wait long. Roy's red hair gave him away and Ollie was ready. He steadied the arrow, took a deep breath and let it fly. The distinctive thok! sound seemed to echo in Ollie's ear. Roy staggered completely into view, heading away from Ollie as quickly as he could. Ollie followed but not too closely, another arrow nocked and ready.

Roy turned, trying to load his own bow and Ollie let loose the next arrow. Roy's body jerked as it hit its mark in his chest. Roy stared down at the green shaft and coughed before falling to the ground. Ollie didn't pause this time, but raced to the red-head's side. Dimly he realized Roy collapsed, bleeding on the mosaic featuring the song title by a dreamer dreaming of a better world.

Imagine. Ollie tried not to consider the irony.

"I'm sorry, Roy," the blonde archer told his eldest son. "God, forgive me." He brushed Roy's sweaty hair back from his face. Roy only smiled at him, eyes dimming as his life drained away. "Please Roy, I-"

Ollie stopped talking when Roy's shaking hand tapped his lips. Two pairs of green eyes, so similar though no genetic heritage was shared by their owners, gazed at each other. Roy's were clear, the deranged gleam was no longer present. It took Ollie a fuzzy second to understand Roy chose this location, had known all along what was going to happen, here at this spot.

He'd planned it all along.

Roy's eyes fluttered closed before fluttering back open. " _Hozho_ ," he whispered and died, smiling with great peace.

Ollie lowered his head to Roy's still chest and cried. Balance was restored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The embers on the drying grass  
> The calm before the storm  
> The stillness of the glacier  
> Before the waters warm.  
> The lioness retaliates  
> When harm comes to her pride;  
> The grizzly far more dangerous  
> With an arrow in her side.
> 
> CHORUS:  
> Coiling coiling coiling coiling  
> Action potential can never be ignored  
> Coiling coiling coiling coiling  
> The villain falls from power  
> The balance is restored
> 
> It’s when the spark ignites the grass  
> Or the storm destroys the path  
> And when the shock wears off the mind  
> It’s when you face it’s wrath  
> The rattlesnake must coil at first  
> Before she strikes and slashes  
> And friction comes between the clouds  
> Before the lightening flashes
> 
> CHORUS
> 
> A ticking time bomb tension winding  
> Tightly like a spring  
> The arrow nocked into the bow  
> The tautness of the spring  
> The pressure mounts within the earth  
> Before the crater cracks  
> The cornered creature sounds the call  
> Before instinct attacks
> 
> CHORUS
> 
> I'm taking liberties, I suppose, with Titans Island's location. As far as I know, it's exact location is unknown, merely somewhere by Manhattan Island and within view, as I recall, of the Statue of Liberty. Therefore, I (well, me and  
> ShadowWing actually) decided that Titans Island is in the upper section of Lower New York Bay, a little inside the jut that forms where Coney Island is situated (for those with a map of New York City and metropolitan areas). And no, I'm not from New York, nor have I ever been to New York. I just looked at a lot of maps.
> 
> For those who don't know, 'hozho' is the Navajo path. It essentially guides them in everything, the fundamental core of their beliefs. It is balance, harmony, beauty, and peace. It is what every Navajo, unless they are skinwalkers, seeks and what every Navajo needs to feel complete. So yes, in death, Roy found his personal balance, harmony, beauty, and peace.


End file.
